


Familiar Faces

by MariaArnt



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Ending, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, Well does not reopen, smol & tol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 08:15:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17422220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariaArnt/pseuds/MariaArnt
Summary: After Naraku was defeated, the well never reopened. Kagome struggles to move on with her life, and to that end gets a part-time job as an office assistant at a high-end antiquities dealer - but the owner turns out to be Sesshomaru. Both of them are terribly lonely and become quick friends, but is the memory of days gone by enough to justify more than that?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a one-shot called "Rhythm is a Dancer" which is now the beginning of Chapter 2. At the request of several new friends on tumblr, including touchofsynesthesia, marengoes, princessingrid09 and dragonflyfashions, I decided to flesh it out a bit more and then continue it. I haven't written SessKag in over a decade, and it feels great to return to my first OTP.

Kagome tried to be happy. Really she did. Every day, visitors came to the shrine—tourists, pilgrims, and the neighborhood pious—and she put a smile on her face and greeted them cheerfully. It was her duty, as a Miko. As a daughter of the shrine. Someday, likely depressingly soon, Grandpa would pass away, and she would be the primary keeper of this shrine until she was old and shriveled too.

Like Kaede.

She took a deep breath at the memory as it pierced her. She was sweeping the steps around the well shrine, so it wasn’t surprising. But it still hurt.

The well had closed after she had defeated Naraku, severing her from that time and all of her friends in it. It had never reopened, although she had tried desperately. She’d broken her leg trying, and that hadn’t been her last attempt.

The old building was locked up now, and it badly needed a new coat of paint. If she was going to be the person responsible for this place, it might never get one. Maybe she should burn it down. Maybe the well would burn with it.

Shaking her head and pushing the thoughts away, she swept the last of the leaves into the basket and put it against her hip, carrying them back towards the shed. It wasn’t easy to do this kind of work in full Miko’s garb, but she found a strange comfort in wearing it, like armor. It was one of the few things that made her feel comfortable in her own skin. She was resolved to fulfill this duty, no matter how it dragged her soul down. Maybe she was more like Kikyo than Kaede after all.

Making her way from the shed to the main temple, she spotted her grandfather chatting with a middle-aged gentleman. She was about to go the other way around, so as not to intrude on their conversation, but then Grandpa spotted her and waved her over, palm down in the old-fashioned way. She came to stand next to the two men and bowed politely.

“This is my granddaughter, who I was telling you about,” her grandfather said.

Kagome had a moment of panic. Usually, that comment meant he’d been trying to set her up with a boyfriend. But this man was old enough to be her father, and for once Grandpa sounded more solemn than bragging.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Higurashi,” he said politely. “My name is Mr. Narita.”

Kagome made the proper polite gestures, still oddly apprehensive.

“Mr. Narita runs an antiquities shop not far from here,” Grandpa said, oddly cheerful now. “His secretary just got married, and he’s looking for a replacement.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I’m surprised, these days most girls don’t quit when they get married,” she commented.

Mr. Narita chuckled. “Well, we tend to be a traditional group,” he admitted. “I suppose the work draws that sort of person.”

Kagome nodded, trying to project the image of ‘wise Miko’ that was expected of her.

“Your grandfather tells me you’re something of an expert on artifacts from the Warring States era,” he said politely.

It took every ounce of her will not to glare daggers at her grandfather. “Yes,” she said stiffly. “Particularly weapons. Swords and bows, and a few unique types.”

She’d meant the comment to seem standoffish—people didn’t expect a woman to know about fighting. But Mr. Narita seemed impressed. “Usually we defer to the owner, Mr. Satsuna, regarding weapons, but he doesn’t often come to visit the office. It would be nice to have someone else with that kind of knowledge, so we could at least screen the items before calling him up.”

Kagome blinked. Was he... offering her a job? “I... I suppose I could offer some insight,” she stammered.

“Wonderful!” Mr. Narita beamed. He fished a business card from his suit jacket and offered it to her with both hands and a bow.

Kagome took it with the same level of respect, still bemused.

“We open late, so you don’t need to come by until 10 AM,” he told her.

Did she just get hired? “Okay,” she answered lamely, not sure what else to say.

Mr. Narita and Grandpa made their farewells, and Kagome stood there dumbstruck. Once his visitor had cleared the external gate, Kagome turned to her grandfather.

“Did you just get me a job?” she demanded.

Grandpa shrugged. “You need something to distract yourself, girl,” he said sagely.

“But... the shrine,” she waved a hand at the buildings around them, her sleeve flapping in the wind.

“It’s a part-time position,” her grandfather said with a wave of his hand. “Your brother can pick up the slack. Besides, I’m not dead yet!” he scowled.

She sighed. “We’ll see what Mama says.”

To her shock, her mother was thrilled. “Oh, that sounds wonderful!” She beamed. “I think the part-timer life could be good for you, sweetie.”

Kagome sighed. Was it that obvious? She tried very hard to hide her pain from her family, but it was hard. She was slipping. Maybe a distraction was in order after all. “Alright, I’ll give it a try.”

Her mother made a hot-pot for dinner to celebrate, and for once, Kagome felt a little happy.

* * *

The antique shop wasn’t what Kagome had expected. She had thought it would be a dark, dusty old store that had obviously occupied the same old run-down building for ages. Instead, it didn’t even have a storefront. It was on the second floor of an office building, and the interior was very modern. In the reception area, several impressive pieces were displayed behind glass like it was a museum. Kagome realized that this wasn’t the sort of place people browsed on the weekends. This place catered to the rich, who would want to be called when their sort of antiques showed up.

She felt terribly out of place, in modern clothes she hadn’t worn much since high school.

Mr. Narita gave her a tour of the office and explained that she’d mostly be filing paperwork and brewing tea, maybe a little data-entry when his workload got heavy, which wasn’t often. There were four junior associates, but they were out of the office most of the time scouring estate sales and the like for finds. There was a corner office for Mr. Satsuna, the owner, but as Mr. Narita had mentioned before, he rarely came in.

“This business is really more of a hobby for him,” he explained. “He’s from an old family, and a collector in his spare time. His father was the one who was serious about it and started the business back in the 70s.”

Kagome nodded. “Old family” probably just meant he was rich. She pictured him as a stodgy old man like Mr. Narita, only in a better suit.

She was given her own desk, although it was small and mostly just a place to put her purse and eat her lunch if she decided not to go out. Her hours were very flexible, she could come and go mostly as she pleased, but she’d get called in if there was a big find and they needed help processing their purchases and drumming up buyers.

Kagome had to admit she liked the work. Most of the pieces they dealt in were from the Meiji revolution or newer, so there wasn’t much there to remind her of her former life. There was a mundanity to it, a pattern and structure, that gave her life a little stability. It gave her the chance to pretend to be someone else. Kagome the part-timer, who bombed high school but tried her best. It wasn’t glamorous, but she’d had enough of adventure for a lifetime. It was blissfully normal. She spent her first paycheck on a couple outfits that were more suitable for an office girl in her mid-twenties.

* * *

It was a Saturday when she got the call that Kenji, one of the scouts, had made a huge purchase and they needed her help. The temple was busy but Sota was already helping out, and the press of people was making her edgy. She made her apologies, changed clothes, and tore out of the place on her bicycle. She came in to find the office full - not just with items but with people. Everyone was there at once, which was a first. The other three scouts were all oohing and ahhing over the finds, and Kenji looked smugly proud.

With good reason, Kagome decided, looking over the haul. Much of the items were in less than stellar condition, but they were  _very_ old. Probably 17th century, she guessed, not quite as old as what she was familiar with, but still.

“Kagome!” Mr. Narita said cheerfully when he spotted her. “I’ve got something for you to look at in particular.”

She weaved through the old furniture, vases, and artwork to where he stood. A long, slender case with several paper wards sat in front of him, and he opened it with a flourish.

“A little younger than your area of expertise,” he admitted, “but I thought you’d want to see it all the same. The seller claims it’s authentic, but it’s so rare to find this sort of thing...”

Kagome pressed the back of her hand against her mouth, fighting the urge to gag. The sword had a nasty jyaki, and she could almost see the miasma of it seeping out into the room.

“It’s authentic,” she gasped out, and shut the case firmly.

Mr. Narita stared at her, perplexed. The others had gone quiet, too. “So confident, at just one look?” Kenji teased.

Kagome flushed, feeling suddenly silly, now that the room felt normal once again. The wards, she noticed, were not the usual sort to guard against fire and bugs out. They were meant to seal it  _in_. She cleared her throat and glanced at the scouts.

All four of them immediately turned to each other and started discussing Kenji’s finds in louder-than necessary voices, giving her some semblance of privacy.

“Mr. Narita, you know that I am a Miko, yes?” she said.

“Of course,” he replied. “I met you at the shrine.”

She nodded. “It’s not my business to ask how... devout you are, in your beliefs,” she eluded.

His face went serious. “I take my devotions seriously,” he told her. “The kami have been good to me.”

Taking a deep breath, she pressed on. “I’m not just the daughter of the shrine,” she explained. “I am a Miko because of certain... talents I have.”

He glanced at the case, and she latched onto an easier explanation. “See these wards?” she traced a finger above the highly stylized kanji.

Mr. Narita took out his glasses and put them on, looking more carefully. “That’s odd, this looks more like an exorcism than a protection.”

“You’re not far off,” she said politely. “They’re like... a lock, but not to ward against stealing. They keep what’s inside the case from getting out.”

Standing up straight, he looked at her with eyes wide. “Why? What’s in the case?”

“The sword,” she shrugged. “It’s...” she shook her head, trying to find a way to explain jyaki to a modern man. She settled on, “It has a very bad aura.”

“A bad aura? Do you suppose it was used dishonorably?” he frowned.

She resisted the urge to laugh. “Depends on your definition of honor,” she said sarcastically.

Mr. Narita looked confused. ‘Honor’ wasn’t a term of debate among humans, she remembered.

“It was probably used to kill a lot of people.” It was an over-simplification, but it would have to do. “Who’s to say if they deserved it or not?”

Her boss looked at her as if he were seeing her for the very first time, and he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. It made her very uncomfortable.

“Anyway, like you said, it’s not my area of expertise. I can’t give you any sort of verifiable proof, but as a Miko, I would guess it’s authentic, and something special. Not the sort of thing that should go to just any buyer.” She frowned, concerned what might happen to it in the wrong hands.

“Sounds like we should call in Mr. Satsuna, then,” he sighed.

She nodded. “That would probably be best.”

“Thank you very much for your help. I don’t like to call him in for just anything, he’s...” he paused. “He’s a little intimidating,” he admitted. “I don’t like to disappoint him.”

Kagome raised her eyebrows. Mr. Narita was a cheerful sort of man, but didn’t seem to be the type to get intimidated easily. She revised her internal image of Mr. Satsuna to a  _mean_ old man, with a perpetual scowl and bushy eyebrows to match.

* * *

 

It took them a week to process all the finds. It was a good week—Kagome got lost in the work, learning from the scouts about what could be restored without damaging the historical integrity of the piece, and what they would leave to clients who enjoyed “fixing up” antiques themselves. She also learned a lot about who they sold to, various charming eccentrics, elderly traditionalists, and trendy nouveau riche. There were even a couple Americans who would buy and possibly resell overseas.

So it was that by the end of the week she’d almost forgotten the sword. It had been placed in Mr. Satsuna’s office and left to be dealt with whenever he deigned to make an appearance.

She was a little surprised to come in on Monday and discover all the scouts were there again. But this time they were all dressed very professionally, and sat at their desks, ostensibly making phone calls or processing paperwork - the latter which they never did, that was her job.

“What’s going on?” she whispered to Sasuke as she handed him his tea.

“Mr. Satsuna is in,” he glanced over toward the office door that was usually locked. Sure enough, there was a light on, judging by the strip visible below the door. “Mr. Narita is in there now.”

That explained why everyone seemed like they were walking on eggshells. Kagome went back to the tea station and brewed up the nicest pot of tea she could manage with the supplies on hand. She doubted she’d be called in, but it was better to be prepared for a battle than have one come upon you unexpected.

She almost laughed as that last thought crossed her mind. She wasn’t going to be battling Mr. Satsuna, she told herself. If anything, she’d be briefly introduced, and that would be the end of it.

“Kagome,” Mr. Narita said cheerfully, and she just about jumped out of her skin.

“Yes?” she tried not to sound nervous. Why was she nervous? Something about the atmosphere of the office was putting her on edge. Maybe they’d opened the sword case again. Yes, as she focused on her long-unused skills she felt just the slightest tinge of jyaki. Her instincts were up, that was all.

“Mr. Satsuna would like to meet you,” he said, sounding a little surprised himself.

She stared at her boss a moment. “Really?” she asked dumbly.

“He was quite impressed with your assessment of the sword,” he said.

Warning bells went off in her head, but she squashed them ruthlessly. The jyaki definitely had her on edge. “Well it’s a good thing I just made tea!” she said with false confidence. She set the pot and two cups on a tray and followed Mr. Narita back to the corner office.

As soon as she stepped through the door, she nearly dropped the tray. For one thing, the sword case sat open on Mr. Satsuna’s desk, and he held the sword itself in his hands, examining the still-sharp blade. The jyaki was enough to make her want to choke.

But the bigger surprise was Mr. Satsuna himself. Although his hair was white, he was young—well, probably a little older than her, but definitely not the old man she had expected. He wore a diamond stud in one ear, and that and the dyed hair made him look a bit like a J-pop star. His eyes, when he glanced up, were a light brown, almost amber.

“Higurashi Kagome,” he said in a surprisingly deep voice. “It is you.”

Confused, she set the tray down on his desk, avoiding the solid-gold nameplate that sat on the near edge. “It’s very nice to meet you Mr. Satsuna,” she said automatically.

He just stared at her for a long, awkward moment. “Thank you, Mr. Narita,” he murmured, not even looking away.

Beside Kagome, her boss made an awkward noise, but then gave a surprisingly low bow and  _backed_ out of the office before he closed the door. She didn’t blame him. Despite looking like a celebrity, the man gave off a very dangerous vibe, barely noticeable beneath the jyaki of the sword he held. It was the sort of thing that would have raised InuYasha’s hackles, she decided, and the memory didn’t hurt so much as concern her. There was something vaguely... familiar about this man, and it bothered her.

“Please,” he gestured to the chairs before his desk. “Have a seat.”

Kagome sat, choosing not to say anything, even though he might see it as rude. They stared at each other for a long time, and she went from nervous to  _ready_. There was a clear challenge in his rudeness, and she wasn’t going to back down from it.

He broke the silence first, and she allowed herself a small smile in victory.

“Mr. Narita tells me that you identified this sword as authentic at a glance,” he said, his voice sounding bored and unemotional. “By its... aura?”

Was he teasing her? “I am a shrine maiden,” she explained, naming her family shrine.

He nodded. “The old well, of course,” he murmured.

Kagome froze. “How do you know about the well?” she asked. She would have remembered if someone like this had come to the shrine.

He gave an elegant shrug, tossing his long bangs out of his eyes. “How do you know about jyaki, Miss Higurashi? It’s not the sort of thing modern Mikos are aware of.” The light caught his eyes, now that they were less hidden, and she saw that they weren’t brown at all.

 _YOKAI_ , her instincts screamed, and her mind raced. How had she missed it? The jyaki from the sword must have overwhelmed his, hiding it. He must be suppressing it as well. Her eyes roved around the room for something she could use as a weapon. He had the sword—could she use the sheath? No, it was old and cracked. Her eyes lit on the gold nameplate—it was heavy at least—when she suddenly stopped thinking.

She stared at the kanji on the plate.

'Satsuna' was one way you could read them.

The other was...

“Sesshou...maru,” she finished the shortened version, looking up at him.

He smiled. Which did not make her feel relieved in the slightest. If he  _was_ Sesshomaru, that smile was bad news. “It’s been a very long time since someone called me that.” Sheathing the sword, he set it back in the case and closed it. That didn’t make her feel much better, either.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded when she couldn’t stand the tension any longer.

His eyebrows went up. “I  _own_ this establishment,” he said evenly. “Far more perplexing is how  _you_ are here. Or rather, now. It’s been, oh, five centuries since I last saw you, and you still appear to be human. That is not an insignificant amount of time, even for one such as me.”

Only now did Kagome relax slightly. Of course. Sesshomaru had simply  _lived_ through the time between eras. He’d probably been alive longer than that before she’d ever been transported to the Warring States era.

“The well,” she choked out.

He nodded. “I remember you travelled somewhere else upon entering it,” he said. “I thought it was a different dimension, based on InuYasha’s descriptions of his visits.”

Kagome felt as if she had been slapped, hearing that name again. “No, it goes to now. Well, a few years ago from now. It closed after the jewel was destroyed. No one can travel through it without at least part of the jewel.”

“I see,” he said. “I suppose that makes some sense. The outfit,” he made a gesture to her clothes, although of course, she wasn’t wearing her junior high uniform anymore.

They sat in silence for another long moment, while Kagome tried not to ask. She failed. “Is InuYasha...”

Sesshomaru glanced down, not wanting to witness the emotions on her face. “No. He didn’t have the same longevity. And he... didn’t lead a careful life, either.”

She swallowed. He’d been dead for centuries, she tried to tell herself. He’d been dead to her since the well closed. It wasn’t new, so why did it hurt like it was? “How?” she choked out.

“Sango and Miroku revived the demon-slaying clan single-handedly,” he said wryly, “and InuYasha made a point of helping them on more difficult cases. He saved the life of their youngest great-grandchild.”

“Oh,” she said softly. It was probably how he would have wanted to go, protecting others he cared about.  They sat quietly, sharing the memory of the half-youkai. Kagome didn’t cry. She didn’t know how to anymore.

“I am sorry,” Sesshomaru said belatedly. “This must be news to you. My condolences.”

She shook her head. “It’s been years. I thought... I thought everyone was dead.”

“Most likely everyone else you knew is,” he replied.

“What became of all the youkai?” she asked. “There are so few spirits in this era, and none of them like...” she made a vague gesture in his direction.

His eyebrows went up, as if to say ‘none of them were ever  _like me_.’

“You know what I mean. Corporeal. With human-like forms,” she said peevishly.

“The Meiji revolution,” he said. “The history books focus on what happened to the samurai—their swords taken away. Imagine if the same law were applied to a demon trying to pass as human.”

“Oh my,” she said.

“Indeed,” he responded.

“Did they take Bakusaiga, then?” she asked.

He scoffed. “Not likely. I wasn’t idiot enough to reveal it. I was a bit of a recluse at the time, and had the benefit of hearing what happened to those demons who chose pride over survival.”

She frowned. That didn’t sound like the Sesshomaru she had known. But then, he’d lived and grown for three more centuries at that point. It made her curious how else he had changed.

“So,” she said at last.

“So?”

She shrugged. “Antiquities?”

He glanced down at the sword. “Mostly a hobby. A source of income, at one point, but I’ve since invested wisely. These days I keep an eye out for this sort of thing,” his lip twitched into the ghost of a snarl as he poked the case, “and keep them out of circulation. It makes me feel like I’m doing something... useful with myself.”

Kagome let out a breath that wasn’t quite a laugh. “I can relate. That’s why I took this job, honestly.”

He raised an eyebrow, inviting further explanation.

“After years of killing demons and fighting to stay alive, sweeping the leaves and going through the motions of the rituals seems...” she trailed off, trying to find the words.

“Hollow,” he supplied.

“Yeah,” she sighed.

He seemed lost in thought a moment. “This era has many wonders,” he said. “And new ones every day. But they’re all either soft or...”

“terrifying,” she answered, and then balked at her own audacity. “I mean, probably not for you.”

“No,” he stopped her. “Some even I could do nothing against.”

Kagome swallowed. If he’d lived in Japan for the last 500 years, then he’d certainly been around for WWII. “Do you miss it?” she whispered.

“The killing?” he asked. His answer was clear, but he seemed surprised that she could relate.

“Well...” she tried to put it a little less bluntly. “I don’t miss that part. I miss... surviving. Feeling really alive.”

His dangerous smile returned. “The winning. Yes, I miss that, too.”

“Do you enjoy working here?” he asked suddenly, surprising her.

She paused. She hadn’t really thought about it. “Yes?” she answered.

“You don’t seem certain.”

“It’s something to do.” She shrugged. “Apparently I’m good at it,” she glanced at the sword case with a wry smile.

“Indeed. I would appreciate it if you would stay on, act as something of an early warning system for me, so Narita doesn’t have to call me down for every wakizashi he finds.”

She smothered a smile. “I think Mr. Narita would appreciate that too.”

Sesshomaru raised his eyebrows. “Has he... complained?”

Kagome shook her head. “He’s been very respectful. But you clearly scare the pants off him.”

The dog demon relaxed into his chair. “Well, he has good instincts. That’s why I hired him.”

Remembering the tea, she reached forward to pour a cup, but it had gone cold. Had it really been that long they had been talking? “I should go...” she said. “They’re going to gossip as it is, us talking this long.”

Sesshomaru sighed. “I suppose so.” He stood up, and Kagome stood too and offered him a deep bow, what she thought was appropriate to his station. He was smiling when she rose, and then, to her shock, he closed his eyes and bowed back—not so low as she had, but quite a bit deeper than an office girl deserved. They had an understanding, it seemed.

Kagome returned to her desk and stared at it for a full five minutes. Mr. Narita startled her when he put a hand on her shoulder.

“You alright?” he asked.

She laughed a little breathlessly. “Yes, I’m fine. Is it alright if I head home early today?” she asked.

He smiled sympathetically. “You can go now, if you want. He has that effect on people. Not to worry, he rarely stops by.”

She hid a smile and nodded. “Thank you.” Secretly, she kind of hoped he would stop by more often. It was nice to talk to someone who knew. 

* * *

 

It wasn’t until she went to bed that night and lay remembering in the darkness that she wondered—what had happened to his markings? She fell asleep and dreamed of giant dogs flying through the sky, and the feel of a bow in her hands once more. 

* * *

 

A week later, Sesshomaru came to the office unannounced just after lunch. He greeted Mr. Narita, Sasuke, and Kagome with equal indifference, and then shut himself in his office.

He came back every time Kagome was there. He didn’t bother them, just stayed in his office. Kagome would bring him tea from time to time, and they might exchange a few words. Normal, everyday stuff. It still made her feel better, and the others eventually got used to his presence.

Nobody teased her about it, which surprised her. She learned early on that he never came on days she didn’t, and she doubted anyone thought it was a coincidence. Especially since part of her role was to let him know if he needed to come in for something special—but if he was there every day that she was, how did that help? Apparently, Sesshomaru was too intimidating to have his motives questioned, and Kagome, as a Miko, was above speculation.

Which was good, because she wasn’t going to give them anything to talk about anyway. The idea itself was laughable.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really struggling on how to write this without being as much of a weaboo as I was in college. I'm translating as much as possible into English, i.e. Miss Higurashi instead of Higurashi-san, etc. but the assumption is of course that they're speaking Japanese, so there may be some references to that (I speak very, very little but I understand the grammar and some nuances). I decided to go with just o for おぅ sounds, I'd prefer to use the ō accent mark but it's a pain in the butt to type. Thus far I've decided to keep kami, yokai, and jyaki in Japanese because the translations (gods, demons, and aura respectively) really lose something in connotation. I started out italicising Japanese words (as is standard practice) but there's just too many of them and it looks weird with my writing style, which has a lot of italics for emphasis.
> 
> Regarding Sesshomaru's longevity vs. InuYasha's:  
> InuYasha appeared 15 but was 150 at the beginning of the series (not counting the 50 years he was frozen by Kikyo, during which he did not age). Therefore, he ages 1 year for every decade. By Kagome's time he would have appeared to be 65. There's no word-of-god canon about how old Sesshomaru is, but we see him around the time of InuYasha's birth and his father's death, and he does not appear to have aged much in 200 years at all. Canon sources say he appears to be the human equivalent of 19 years old (I always thought of him as a little older, but whatevs, he is kind of a teenage drama queen). For the purposes of this story I'm going to assume he was about 1,000 years old, and figure on him aging a decade for every 500 years. That puts him at just under 30 in this story.


	2. Chapter 2

Kagome stared out at the flashing lights and moving bodies on the dancefloor and sighed, sipping her nearly empty drink. She really wished her date hadn’t bailed, or that she was at least here with Yuka and Eri so they could go out and make idiots of themselves. Instead, improbably, she was here with....

“Would you like to dance?” Sesshomaru’s voice was somehow still calm and collected even as he nearly shouted to be heard over the music. When she’d made the mistake of mentioning that she’d been stood up as a pathetic attempt at small talk, he’d graciously offered to take her out and she hadn’t been able to come up with a nice enough excuse to refuse.

She laughed nervously. “You don’t have to!” she half-shouted back. “I know this place probably does a number on your ears, and it’s even louder out there.”

“Nonsense,” he waved a hand elegantly. “You didn’t come here to watch other people dance.”

Well, it was hard to argue with that. It was always hard to politely argue with Sesshomaru. It was like playing go when you barely knew the rules - he was always ten steps ahead. It made her long for the days when she would have been brave enough to shout the bare truth at him, chance of dying be damned.

He held out a long, slender hand, and she smothered another sigh by downing the last of her drink and leaving it on the table. As they made their way out into the crush, she prayed that no one from the office was there. She doubted their polite refusal to speculate about all the time Sesshomaru was spending there would hold up to something this scandalous. Not that it was strictly taboo, he wasn’t her boss, exactly, because he didn’t really run the company. He was more of a figurehead, offering advice and guidance but only when it was asked for.

 _Kind of like the emperor,_ she thought, glad his back was to her so he would see the goofy smirk on her face. She’d just imagined him wearing the emperor’s traditional regalia and for some reason found it hilarious.

Sesshomaru found a relatively open space on the floor and turned to face her just as a new, high-tempo song came on. Despite her reluctance, she smiled - at least it was one of her favorites. She determined to have a good time of it and just ignore the fact that Sesshomaru was there making it weird.

Before long, though, that proved difficult, although not in the way she expected. As it turned out, Sesshomaru was a pretty good dancer. No, that wasn’t fair, she admitted to herself. Sesshomaru was a  _fantastic_ dancer. As in, rather than just sort of bouncing to the beat as most guys did, he knew  _actual moves,_ and beyond that  _didn’t look like a complete idiot doing them._ But then, it was hard to imagine Sesshomaru looking like an idiot doing anything. Except maybe wearing the emperor’s regalia.  With a laugh, she did her best to match him, comfortable in her usual incompetence.

“What’s so funny?” he asked over the music.

“You’re really good at this! I didn’t expect that!” she shouted back.

That earned her one of his rare, mysterious smiles. A small one, which was either a warning or a promise. The kind she had used to fear, in another life. But now she was just glad to see him happy.

The music changed into something more driving and intense. She’d only intended to humor him for one song, but she realized she was having fun, and didn’t feel like stopping yet. This song seemed popular—the dance floor was quickly crowded, and they were forced to move closer. Not that Kagome minded, exactly, it just changed the sort of dancing they were doing to something a little more... personal. And honestly, she was starting to really get into it. It wasn’t until she felt Sesshomaru’s hands brush her hips that she realized he was too. She glanced up at him, surprised, and found that same dangerous smile. He tilted his head a fraction and raised his eyebrows. The unspoken question was clear—did she want him to stop?

Did she? Some rational part of her brain argued there was probably some reason she  _should_ , but between the noise and the alcohol and the way he was making her move, she couldn’t really think what it was.

So instead she closed her eyes and took the half step to close the distance between them. It felt amazing to let go and just exist in the moment. When was the last time she had felt like this? It brought back memories of the wind rushing past her as she soared high above the ground on Kirara’s back, of the moment of tension before the arrow was released, the thrill of victory. And for once, the memories didn’t make her want to cry.

But then the music shifted again, this time slowing down until the bass thumped like a heartbeat. It was the kind of song Yuka irreverently called a ‘grinder.’ Not the sort of thing Kagome ever danced to. But Sesshomaru adjusted his tempo to match effortlessly, and suddenly the effect of their bodies pressed together was entirely different. Her face felt hot, and she opened her eyes and looked up to tell him that they should probably stop... only to be struck speechless.

His yellow eyes blazed like molten gold. She recognized his intense expression as if she had seen it yesterday instead of years ago - it was the look he got when he was about to kill somebody and enjoy it, and with a shiver, she recalled that it was not the first time the look had been directed at her. She tried again to say something, but nothing came out.

He seemed to sense her distress, and it brought back that dangerous smile. His fingers tightened on her hips for a moment, but then he released her, stepping back. For a moment she felt adrift, suddenly out of synch with the music and off balance. She had meant to leave the dance floor, but now her feet wouldn’t move. She was frozen as Sesshomaru brushed past her, and for one humiliating second, she thought he would leave her there.

But then his hands found her hips once more, and he pulled her back against him, back into the rhythm of the music, and he moved her body in a way she’d never experienced before but instinctually recognized, his hips tilting against the curve of her rear in a pattern far older than either of them.

The flush on her face suddenly spread to most of her body, and she might have let out an undignified squeak. But while most of her was utterly, unbelievably mortified, there was a rather significant portion that absolutely refused to back down. She had fought tougher demons than Sesshomaru—by a narrow margin, admittedly, and never alone, but still—and she wasn’t going to run away now. Not to mention that considering Sesshomaru’s instincts running away was probably a very bad idea.

So she stood her ground, put her hands over his, and arched back against him with abandon. She refused to be embarrassed, and she was going to enjoy her night out, dammit. His grip tightened on her hips, and he seemed to sense the challenge because he turned the intensity  _way_ up. She let go of her embarrassment and let the music drown out the part of her brain that was nagging that this was wrong, and just  _danced_. And for once, it was effortless. With the subtlest twitch of his fingers, Sesshomaru let her know which way to move, and they melded into the beat as if it were part of them. Her hands wandered up her own body, relishing the intoxicating feel of the music moving through her. Taking a risk, she reached up and threaded her fingers into his silver hair, finding it exactly as soft as it looked. She traced the edge of his ears, and despite the illusion he wore to look human, she could feel the points of them. Her fingers wandered down his cheeks, tracing the invisible stripes she remembered.

As if following after her touch, Sesshomaru dipped his head and tucked it into the crook of her neck, brushing his nose against her ear so she could hear the pleased growl that rumbled in his chest against her back.

 _Oh Kami,_ Kagome thought helplessly. The music swallowed her moan, but she suspected he could hear it anyway. This was... this was more intoxicating than anything she’d ever felt. She wanted more, wanted  _him_ , and the shock of it was a mix of terrifying and liberating that set her head spinning. One of his hands drifted slowly from her hip to her stomach, splaying there to press her back, his thumb just brushing the swell of one breast. Her breath hitched in her throat, and for a moment nothing existed but the music and his hands and the feel of his breath coming fast against her neck.

And then the music shifted again, but this time it was to something light and peppy. Suddenly she became aware of the world around her, of the sideways looks the other dancers were giving them, ranging between disapproval and voyeuristic interest. She stiffened and pushed away, and to her surprise he let her go without any resistance. She whirled around, and nothing could have prepared her for the flush of color across his high cheekbones. He wasn’t playing her then - he’d felt it too.

“I—I—” she stammered, not sure what she meant to say. “I can’t,” she blurted, although she didn’t know exactly what she was referring to.

He tilted his head in the endearing manner of dogs everywhere, and in that moment he looked so damn much like his brother that she felt something inside her tear wide open. Without another word, she turned and ran. Even though she knew it was stupid, knew you should  _never_ run from a predator, she did it anyway. She didn’t stop until she had pushed her way through the exit and could draw in a deep breath of the crisp winter air. After a few gulps, she hugged herself and then realized how  _stupid_ she had been. She’d left her coat inside, and her phone and wallet were still in the inside pocket.

“Dammit, Kagome,” she muttered, and her breath puffed out in a cloud. It had gotten much colder, and the low-hanging clouds threatened snow at any moment. She glanced at the door, at the man checking IDs. How could she get back in? Turning her back to him, she watched the traffic and tried to think what she should do.

Suddenly, a familiar warmth fell over her shoulders. She looked down to see the edges of her own coat.

“You forgot this,” Sesshomaru said quietly, his voice as emotionless as usual.

She looked up to see him studiously pretending not to be interested in her. He was wearing his wool peacoat, belted tightly.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her face hot again.

They stood there a moment, studying the bustle of late-night Tokyo. “I apologize if I was too forward,” he said at last. “It was not my intention to frighten you.”

Kagome let out a breathless laugh. She couldn’t exactly claim that he hadn’t, but how to explain that she had  _enjoyed_ it? “I think I frightened myself,” she said instead. “It’s been so long since I felt... anything, really.”

He nodded as if he understood perfectly. “Would you like a ride home?”

She turned to face him, remembering how to gather her courage and screw it to the sticking point. “I don’t want to go home,” she told him.

He looked at her finally, and his gaze cut right through her, seeing her as she really was, as no one else in this time really could. The corner of his mouth twitched, and he pulled the keys to his car out of his coat pocket. “My place, then?”

 _Draw the bowstring back, and then let it go_. “Sure.” 

* * *

 

Sesshomaru’s place was not what Kagome had expected. For one thing, it was in a high-rise of expensive, ultra-modern condos, with a built-in garage in the basement. And it was decorated to match, all open stretches of polished concrete floors and textured walls with recessed lighting and high-tech devices all around.

“You seem disappointed,” he commented as he shrugged off his coat, and then held out a hand for hers. He hung them up in a closet that was hidden behind a door that blended in perfectly with the wall.

“It’s not... what I imagined.”

“Hn,” he commented vaguely. “You expected a sprawling, traditional manor house, with sliding paper walls and woven straw mats on the floor?”

He made it sound silly. “Well, yes,” she admitted.

Turning back to her, he held her in suspense a moment longer. “It takes too long to get to my estate house,” he said at last.

She laughed. “So this is, what? Where you crash when you’re in town?”

Shrugging he looked around. “Essentially. Plus, I do occasionally like to enjoy the benefits of my longevity.”

Of course he would phrase ‘modern conveniences’ that way. “Fair enough.”

He gestured to the low-slung couch in the middle of the room. “Make yourself at home,” he offered.

Kagome thought that wasn’t likely amid all this luxury, but she sat down anyway. The alcohol had burned off on the ride over, and her courage had fled with it. As if reading her mind, Sesshomaru went directly to the wet bar that looked like something out of a movie and pulled out a glass.

“Do you have a favorite poison?” he asked flippantly.

She laughed. “You know how to bartend?”

He glanced at the selection of bottles behind him pointedly. “I’m not going to hire in someone to do it. And I’ve got a _lot_ of spare time on my hands.” The last comment was said with a moroseness to it that made her think that maybe he needed a drink, too.

“I’ve got a sweet tooth,” she admitted. “As long as it tastes good, I’ll drink it.”

He nodded, almost to himself, and started grabbing bottles. “I prefer drinks that taste good too,” he admitted. “I never understood the human tendency to take pride in stomaching what tastes like paint varnish when you can easily get just as drunk on something flavorless.”

She laughed. “It does seem like a dumb thing to brag about, doesn’t it?”

He didn’t just know how to bartend, he was  _good_ at it. He didn’t flip the bottles or anything like that, but he had two different drinks mixed up in under five minutes. He came to join her on the couch, holding out a tumbler that was green at the bottom and blue at the top.

“Pretty,” she commented. “Dancing, mixing drinks, is there anything you’re not good at?” She took a sip. It was sweet but not overpowering, and she didn’t taste the kick until she’d swallowed. And it was quite the kick—she supposed he was used to a lot higher tolerance. She’d have to pace herself.

“No,” he answered archly.

That made her laugh. It was just such a very Sesshomaru thing to say. She had to put her drink down on the black glass coffee table for a moment. “I’m sorry,” she said, suppressing the giggles. “It feels like forever since I laughed like that.”

Something in his face... softened. It wasn’t a smile, really, but she thought it meant the same thing. It was the way he used to look at Rin sometimes, she remembered. “You should laugh more often, then,” he told her.

She felt a warmth in her chest, and she didn’t think it was entirely from the alcohol. She picked up the drink again and took another sip, though, to fight the nerves that rose in response. “Can I ask you a personal question?” she asked.

“You can ask,” he answered, clearly not promising to answer.

“Your markings... You don’t look like you’re wearing makeup to cover them...” she guessed.

“Ah.” He set down his drink—he’d already gone through half of it, she noticed—and reached up to take out the diamond stud in his ear. As soon as the post came free from his ear, the end elongated to a point, the magenta stripes on his cheeks bled back in, as well as the thin line one each eyelid, and the purple moon on his forehead bloomed last. “It’s a spell,” he explained, holding out the earring.

She took it gingerly, examining it. It did have a bit of an aura to it, like a ward. Glancing up, she saw that his eyes were now clearly gold, as they had been for a moment at the club, but now were cat-slitted too. “It doesn’t work so well on your eyes,” she told him.

“I know,” he took the stud back, but set it on the coffee table and picked his drink back up. “It’s harder to hide that sort of thing. There’s a saying—the eyes are the windows to the soul. It’s true, I suppose.”

She nodded, but she was busy studying his face.

“I can put it back on if it makes you more comfortable,” he said after a moment.

“Oh no,” she said quickly. “It’s just so surreal, to be sitting here chatting with Sesshomaru-sama, Lord of the West, the Great InuYokai.”

He pursed his lips but was clearly pleased. “I haven’t been any of those things for a long time,” he told her.

“Not to me,” she said. “To me, it was just a few years ago.”

He studied her a moment. “Is it selfish of me to appreciate you because of that?” he murmured.

She took a deep drink and set the nearly empty glass aside. So much for pacing herself. “Only if it’s selfish of me for appreciating you because, in your eyes, I’m the Shikon Guardian,” she answered.

He tilted his head. “It’s more than that, though,” he admitted. “It’s not the titles and the honor. I don’t know how to explain it,” he shook his head, perplexed.

“I do,” she whispered. “You know who I really am. Not who I pretend to be, going through the motions. You’ve seen what I can really do, how far I can go.”

“You’ve seen me at nearly my weakest,” he commented.

That surprised her. She remembered several moments, but she guessed he was talking about the first—when InuYasha had cut off his arm. “Nearly?” she asked, curious.

“I was some time recovering,” he admitted. “Rin brought me food. That’s how I met her,” he explained.

She sat back, satisfied with a mystery solved. “I always wondered what made you adopt a human kid like that. It seemed... really out of character. Although I didn’t know you that well, admittedly.”

He nodded. “She was mute, to start with. I tried to scare her off. The humans of her village beat her for stealing to feed me.  Then, when I was better, I found her dead in the forest, mauled by wolves.”

Kagome drew in a sharp breath. It wasn’t hard to guess whose wolves, either, based on the timing. “Tenseiga?” she guessed.

He nodded. “It was the first time I’d used it that way. After that, I felt... responsible for her. If I was going to bring her back to life, I had a duty to preserve it.”

She smiled. “Sure,” she teased.

“Well, that’s how it started,” he countered. “I didn’t say it stayed that way.” His face softened again, and he took a deep breath. “I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone that story.”

Kagome resisted the urge to ask more about Rin. About what had happened to her. She was human, so she knew the girl was dead. But how, and what the rest of her life had been like, was a question for another time. She didn’t want to push, it was clear he wasn’t used to sharing.

Instead, she found herself staring at his markings again. Without really realizing what she was doing, she reached up and trailed a finger along one of the stripes. He held still, submitting to her curiosity with a vague sense of amusement.

“Do I look so strange?” he asked.

“No, you look...  _right_. Real. Although I miss the hair,” she admitted.

He ran a hand over the short strands at the back of his head. “I do as well. But it made me stand out too much.”

“I’m surprised the spell you use doesn’t change the color,” she admitted.

“I don’t like the way it looks,” he explained. “This much of a difference is... unsettling, sometimes, when I catch my reflection unexpectedly. Any more is disturbing.”

Reaching up, she traced the crescent moon. He didn’t seem to mind, so she scooted closer and touched his ear, her other hand coming to feel the other. She gave the points a gentle tweak.

“It doesn’t work that way on me,” he said, clearly amused.

She jerked her hands back as if burned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t...” the memory of InuYasha rose up between them, sudden and intrusive. Gods, what was she  _doing_? With his  _brother_? She looked away, fighting the rising panic.

Sesshomaru’s hands gently grasped her wrists, and he slowly brought her hands back up to his face. “That doesn’t mean I don’t like it when you touch me,” he murmured.

“What are we doing?” she whispered.

“Living,” he told her, catching her meaning easily. “Which is what they would want us to do.”

Something inside her snapped loose. She felt like she might cry, but she couldn’t—wouldn’t—do that. So instead she did the other thing she felt like doing. She leaned forward and kissed Sesshomaru, right on his perfect, aristocratic lips.

He paused only a moment, and then kissed her back, slowly and carefully. She sighed and pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Don’t be,” he brushed a thumb against her bottom lip. “Your kiss is as delicious as I had imagined it.”

That made something in her stomach flutter. “Oh. I thought... you didn’t seem very... enthusiastic.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I was being gentle,” he pointed out. “Humans are delicate. If I do not curb my enthusiasm, I am not a gentle lover.”

That  _definitely_ got a reaction somewhere significantly south of her stomach. She swallowed, and mentally drew her bow and fired. “I’m pretty strong for a human,” she countered. “And maybe I don’t  _want_ a gentle lover.”

His eyes flashed, and just on the edge of her hearing she caught a low growl. It was a challenge. He  _knew_ it was a challenge. Her heart raced as she waited to see if he would take it.

When had Sesshomaru ever backed away from a challenge? Never. He wove a hand through her hair, the sharp points of his nails just barely scratching against her scalp until the back of her skull rested in the palm of his hand.

 _He could kill me,_ she remembered suddenly. It made her heart beat even faster, and she licked her lips, caught like a rabbit in that moment of suspense. He growled a little louder, and then bent his head to kiss her. Hard. His tongue traced her lips, and she opened up to him without hesitation, tasting the bittersweet drink he’d made for himself. Moaning, she grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him towards her. He went a step further, leaning forward until she was unbalanced. He shifted, pushing her back onto the couch and following after, his body hovering over hers. She’d had her leg hitched up on the couch to start with, it wasn’t difficult to twist her hips to bracket his, her skirt riding up a bit so she could grind against him.

He moaned against her mouth, and the feel of it was exquisite. He slid a hand under the small of her back and pressed her against him harder.

Kagome gasped. Dancing with him had been one thing, but this was... much better. She could feel him, through the layers of cloth, hot and hard and everything she’d never bothered to imagine but suddenly she was very, very curious about.

At her indrawn breath, Sesshomaru released her lips and buried his face in her throat. “Kagome,” he murmured.

“Mmm?” she answered absently. She slid her hands down his back and tugged at his shirt. She wondered suddenly if he had markings elsewhere on his body.

He licked a long line from her collarbone up to just behind her ear, and she shuddered. “I’m not going to sleep with you tonight,” he whispered.

She paused. “What?” Her brain wasn’t quite functioning, and she thought maybe she’d imagined the negating _nai_ toward the end of his sentence.

Lifting his head, he looked down at her, as serious as ever. “I want to, but I’m not going to.”

She felt her cheeks flush. Nevermind that they were currently dry-humping on his couch, hearing him say it was another thing entirely. “Why not?”

He kissed her before answering, drawing her bottom lip into his mouth. She could feel the prick of his razor-sharp canines, and her breath hitched.

“Many reasons,” he said when he released her.

“Like what?” she squirmed against him, struggling to keep ahold of the conversation.

“Well, for one, you’re drunk,” he said teasingly.

She scowled, pulling back to look at him. “I’m not  _that_ drunk,” she protested.

“I have no way of knowing that,” he argued, but he slid the hand on her back lower, cupping her ass and giving it a squeeze.

“Not convinced,” she said. “What else.”

He chuckled, a deep, dangerous sound that sent shivers down her spine. “You are a very traditional girl, and a Miko to boot.”

She wasn’t too drunk to draw the conclusion from his words. “So I’m a virgin,” she rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t really mean anything, you know. I won’t lose my powers or something.”  _Not that I use them anymore_ , she added silently.

“I know,” he purred against her throat, and then bit down ever so carefully, scraping his teeth against her skin lightly.

She moaned, arching her back up against him.

“It’s still not the sort of thing you rush into,” he concluded, and then pulled back.

Kagome felt suddenly bereft without the pressure of his body grinding against hers. But then he lifted her—as if she weighed nothing, reminding her once more of his inhuman strength—and set her down, straddled across his lap. She felt much more exposed this way, but she wasn’t going to back down. Not if she hoped to win this argument. “You’ve waited 500 years,” she teased. “Hardly rushing,” she teased, grinding herself against him as suggestively as she could manage.

He pulled back and grasped her chin in a grip that wasn’t quite tight enough to hurt. “Don’t imagine I spent all this time pining after you, little Miko,” he said derisively.

She swallowed, afraid she’d pushed him too far. “Sorry, I just...” she closed her eyes, trying to find the words. Instead, her hips began to move again, almost of their own volition. “I  _really_ want this,” she told him.

The hand that rested on her hip flexed, fingertips digging into her. “Why?” he asked.

She opened her eyes. “You make me feel alive again.”

He sighed, and she couldn’t tell if it was disappointment or commiseration. Maybe a little of both. But her answer was honest. “Don’t you want your first time to be with someone you love?” he asked, There was no hurt behind his words, only curiosity.

She let out a sad little laugh. “I think I missed that chance,” she admitted. “But I’d rather it be with someone who actually _knows_ me.”

He studied her face for a long moment and then kissed her again. It wasn’t the forceful kisses of a few moments ago, but it was somehow deeper, more desperate. It was  _emotional_ , as unlikely as that seemed. It was as if he were trying to drown himself in her. She had felt like she was drowning for a long time, and this was the first breath of air she’d caught in years.

At last they broke apart, both out of breath. Sesshomaru leaned his forehead against hers and traced the line of her spine with one finger. “I’m still not sleeping with you tonight,” he said breathlessly.

Maybe her head had cleared a little because she finally caught the strain in his voice. He really did want her on some level, but not now, not tonight. She’d done her best to communicate that he shouldn’t hold back for her sake, but he’d said he had many reasons. Maybe not all of them were about her.

“Okay,” she said softly. She kissed the crescent on his forehead. “This is enough,” she told him. “This is...” she laughed, “more than I ever imagined.”

He gave a satisfied hum and kissed her neck. “Oh, I’ve been imagining it for a while, now,” he murmured.

She giggled. “Are you serious? You mean you didn’t just offer to take me to the club out of pity?”

“Hardly,” he scoffed, one hand tracing the line where her skirt lay against her thigh, making her breath hitch. “I’d been trying to come up with a plan of attack for some time, but as is usually the case, the opportunity presented itself first.”

Kagome balked at his martial terminology. Well, it wasn’t like she didn’t think the same way. “A very successful ambush, then?”

He hummed in agreement, and then went back to kissing her like he meant it. 

* * *

 

Kagome wasn’t surprised to find her mother reading in the living room when she got home. She knew she worried, and it was a lot later than she usually stayed out. But the lines of concern on her forehead melted away as soon as she looked up to see her daughter in the doorway, kicking off her shoes.

“Have a good time?” she said, warmly teasing.

Kagome knew she didn’t look disheveled. She’d made sure of it, fixing her hair at Sesshomaru’s place, and then checking in the mirror in his car before he dropped her off at the bottom of the shrine steps. Still, her mother’s comment made her a little nervous. “How can you tell?”

Her mother laughed and got up to give her a hug. “Because you’re smiling, sweetie. It’s good to see that again.”

She hugged her mother back tightly. “Yeah, I had a good time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See? Who says discussing consent can't be sexy? ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks, just a heads up: I've tagged this story for references to suicide and sexual harassment, but this chapter is the one that earns those tags. Nothing happens en scene, but it's a pretty in-depth discussion of it happening in the past. I just wouldn't want someone to stumble on that sort of thing on accident.

The next rare find came a few days later. Kagome had just gotten dressed in her Miko’s robes when her cell phone rang. It was Sasuke, the friendliest of the scouts.

“Hey, you should come in early today, I found something cool you’ll like,” he told her without preamble.

She glanced down at herself, debating whether she wanted to go to the bother of changing. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I thought you’d like the chance to look at it before Mr. Satsuna comes in,” he teased. It was the closest anyone had come to commenting on Sesshomaru’s continued presence at the office.

To her surprise, nothing had changed when she returned to the office after the night at the club. Sesshomaru was cordial but politely distant, inquiring after her day and making other such small talk when she brought in the tea. There were no significant looks, no suggestive references. She couldn’t tell if he was being eminently professional or pretending it didn’t happen.

Or giving her the opportunity to pretend, if she so chose.

It probably should have bothered her. Instead, she was relieved. The whole thing had been a little overwhelming, and while she didn’t regret it—quite the opposite—she wasn’t sure she felt ready to pursue the issue yet. She’d cross that bridge when she got there, the reasonable adult part of her said.

 _Coward_ , said the Girl Who Fought Demons.

“Higurashi?” Sasuke asked.

“Sorry.” She’d been quiet for too long, she realized. “I’ll be right there.”

She hung up, sighed, and started to undress once more. 

* * *

 It was a bow. _Of course it’s a bow_ , she thought acerbically. It seemed her past was determined to rise up and taunt her, lately. It was a beautiful piece, over a hundred years old and very well maintained, to the point that it was still flexible enough it could probably be strung.

It was also nothing “special,” as far as Sesshomaru would be concerned. It was just a bow.

“It looks real to me,” she said. “I don’t see any modern materials, and look,” she pointed to a place near the wrapped hand rest where the bamboo was a little lighter, “This has been re-wrapped, which means it was probably used quite a bit.” She tested the flexibility again, resting the base against her toes and pulling down on the tip. “Really great condition, considering the age. These things are hard to take care of.”

“How do you know so much about archery?” Kenji asked, amused as always with her unorthodox expertise.

She swallowed the truth, refusing to let it stick in her throat. “I was in archery club in high school,” she answered. That was the truth, too.

“Wow, really?” Sasuke asked. “Any good?”

Kagome gave a wry smile. Behind him, Sesshomaru had entered the office without anyone noticing. She wasn’t surprised, he always could move as silent as a cat. His eyes held amusement to match hers. _Like no other,_ they seemed to say.

“I did pretty well,” she said modestly. “Qualified for the regional competition.” she swallowed an ugly truth again. “But I got sick and had to drop out.” That wasn’t entirely a lie, if you squinted at it just right.

“As always, you are full of surprises Miss Higurashi,” Sesshomaru finally spoke, making the scouts jump and whirl around to greet him politely.

He nodded serenely in response, and came to Kagome and held out a hand. She gave him the bow. “Looks authentic to me, but nothing extraordinary.”

“Yes,” he agreed, turning it over. “Excellent condition, as you said.” Turning, he handed the bow to Sasuke. “Good work. I think Mrs. Yamata might like to see it.”

Taking the bow, Sasuke nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, sir. That’s what I thought, if it wasn’t something you wanted in your private collection.”

Sesshomaru nodded and headed to his office. As soon as the door closed, Kenji and Sasuke let out identical breaths. Kagome resisted the urge to giggle and went to make the tea. 

* * *

 A couple of days later, Sesshomaru asked if she had any plans for the evening.

Kagome glanced at the door. She was in the habit of closing it behind her, so they could talk freely if the fancy struck them. Therefore it was closed, of course.

“Not particularly,” she said quietly. “Did you have something in mind?”

“Yes,” he said, glancing down at his phone, tapping a note on his calendar app. “I’ll pick you up at the shrine at 6 PM, wear something comfortable.”

She stared at him. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

He looked up. “No.”

Sighing, Kagome shook her head. “Six it is, then.” 

* * *

It was 5:57 when the sleek, understated luxury car pulled up. Kagome had already been standing there for 10 minutes, but she wasn’t going to let him know that. She hadn’t felt this enthusiastic about going out in ages. Opening the door, she slid into the leather seat and turned to tease Sesshomaru about being early.

The words died in her throat. He was wearing a Haori and Kosode, both in subtle dark blues. “Oh,” she said, looking down at her yoga pants and baggy sweatshirt.

“I said comfortable,” he reassured her. “This is what I find comfortable. I assume you are as well?”

She relaxed and shut the door. “Yeah. So where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he answered, and pulled out into traffic. 

* * *

 Kagome glanced up at the big block of a building. It was surrounded by others like it, in an industrial part of Tokyo. It looked like the kind of place the Yakuza made deals. Not that she was worried, honestly. The idea of anyone being more threatening than Sesshomaru was laughable, and she didn’t get worked up much about her personal safety these days anyway.

 _Point in case, I may or may not be dating a demon_ , she thought wryly as he held the door open for her.

Inside, the building looked completely different. The door opened on a long, narrow room that was warmly decorated with traditional touches—paper screens and floor mats, calligraphy hung on the walls. There were wooden benches along the walls on either side that looked well-used but lovingly maintained.

“Mr. Satsuna,” a man stood up from behind the desk in the back with a smile and a polite bow. “Right on time, as usual.” He picked up a ring of keys and his jacket. “Just make sure the door latches on your way out. The lights are next to the door.”

“Thank you, Hakune-sensei,” Sesshomaru replied.

The man gave Kagome a quick bow as well and seemed not in the least surprised to see her there. “Have a good evening, you two.”

“Good evening,” Kagome echoed, surprised.

When he was gone, she turned to Sesshomaru. “Hakune- _sensei_?” She was surprised to hear him address someone—a human no less—with the honorific term ‘teacher.’

“A professional courtesy,” he explained, and moved to slide one of the paper doors aside. “This is his dojo.”

Stepping forward, Kagome saw that it was an impressive dojo at that. A full array of training weapons hung against one wall, and there were various training dummies and punching bags in the corner. But most of the expansive space was clear, and at the far end, a series of targets stood. On the near side of the room was a stand with several bows and a couple quivers of arrows.

“Oh,” Kagome said softly. “You didn’t have to do this,” she turned to Sesshomaru, trying to find the words to explain.

“No, I didn’t,” he agreed.

She sighed. “I stopped doing archery years ago, I’m probably very rusty,” she said, but went to the stand anyway and started testing the resistance on the bows. She didn’t want to pull a muscle—better to go lighter than what she was used to. But there was one that she couldn’t even begin to pull.

“What is the draw on this thing?” she asked, surprised. She wasn’t  _that_ out of practice.

“Sixty kilograms,” he answered, holding out a hand. “Hakune had it made for me.” He had taken off his Haori and freed his left arm from the Kosode, in the traditional fashion for archery practice.

Kagome handed it over and didn’t bother pretending not to be impressed with the way his muscles flexed when he drew it easily. He’d removed his earring, too, and she spotted a pair of magenta stripes on each wrist, making her curious once again where others might be.

Looking away before she blushed, she glanced over the gloves available, and chose a soft one. Her callouses had long since worn away, and she didn’t fancy blisters in the morning, but she wasn’t going to rely on the convenience of a hard glove.

Drawing a clockwise arrow from the quiver, Sesshomaru took up a flawless stance, paused for half a heartbeat, and fired.

The arrow landed just inside the bullseye, but Kagome suspected that the not-quite-perfect shot was intentional. He didn’t want to make her feel bad.

“Pretty good for a swordsman,” she said flippantly. Selecting a corresponding counterclockwise arrow, she took his place, took a little more time aiming, and let the string go. The arrow flew straight and true, hitting the very center of the target.

“Maybe I’m not so rusty after all,” she mumbled, actually surprised.

“Some things you never forget, particularly if you’ve needed to remember them to survive,” Sesshomaru answered.

She sighed. “That’s certainly true, although I often wish it wasn’t.”

After that, they each picked their own target and practiced for a while, only the sound of the arrows cutting the air and landing true in their targets disturbing the comfortable silence between them.

When the arrows were gone, she automatically began the half-jog to fetch them and was surprised to find that Sesshomaru had followed her, gathering his own arrows.

“Why did you really quit?” he asked, as they returned to the other end of the dojo. “Was it the memories?”

“No,” she sighed. “I joined because it was something I was very good at. It made me feel like that other life was worth something, even if it was as trivial as winning competitions.”

He made a sound of agreement. She hadn’t really answered his question, but he didn’t press. She thought about it as they made the next volley, and it showed. Her aim was less than stellar.

“I’ll get them,” he offered, and in a blink he was on the other side of the dojo, plucking the arrows out of the targets.

Kagome tried to even her breathing, and pulled off her sweatshirt. It was pleasantly warm in the dojo, and while she hadn’t been planning on showing off her sports bra, she wasn’t exactly shy about it.

Sesshomaru gave her a long, assessing look when he returned, his gaze not nearly as cold as usual.

“There was an incident,” she said suddenly. She hadn’t really planned how she was going to tell him, but she realized she wanted to. “My sensei... the archery instructor for the team was... a little hands-on.”

This elicited a flare of jyaki from the demon lord, although he gave no outward sign of his anger. “Is that not illegal, especially with minors?”

She sighed. “It was never anything that anyone could conclusively say was wrong. He didn’t touch us inappropriately, he just had a very physical style of instruction. He called it ‘showing not telling,’ and argued that repositioning someone was more effective than telling them what to do. And he did it to the boys as well as the girls.”

“That doesn’t signify anything,” Sesshomaru growled.

“True enough,” she sighed.

“It made you and the others uncomfortable?” he guessed.

She nodded. “But he was good, so we put up with it. One afternoon we were training for the upcoming regionals and he came up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders and whispered something in my ear. I don’t even know what he said, probably an encouragement, honestly. But it...” she struggled for words, twirling an arrow in her fingers. “It reminded me, very suddenly and strongly, of Naraku.”

Sesshomaru glanced away, looking like  _he’d_ like to go back in time, just to have the chance to kill him again. “Did you attack him?”

“Noooo...” she said slowly, glancing down the dojo at the targets. “But my instincts kicked in and I kind of... obliterated the target.”

“You used your Miko powers?”

“Yeah. To spectacular effect.” She gave a hollow laugh.

He made a  _tsk_ sound that reminded her strongly of his brother, not quite a swear word, but the beginning of one. “I imagine the others present were startled.”

“You could say that again.” Kagome lifted her bow and made a careless shot. It went wide. “I quit the next day.”

Sesshomaru stared at her a moment longer, and then took a shot of his own. “I am sorry that you experienced that,” he said. “But that is not the end of the story.”

Kagome lowered her bow and took a deep breath. “How would you know?” she scowled at him. He was right, of course.

He didn’t look at her, and took his time with his shot before answering. “At the office, you said you got sick. And you weren’t  _quite_ lying.”

She didn’t bother to ask how he knew that. There were a hundred different things it could have been—he could have smelled it, for all she knew. Instead, she put the arrow back in the quiver, the bow back on the rack, and went to the water fountain to get a drink.

Patient as ever, Sesshomaru continued as if she hadn’t walked away from his question, emptying the quiver and then fetching the arrows. Kagome sat on a bench and watched him for a while until he came to sit next to her.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he said quietly. “I was merely curious. If it is too personal...”

“I tried to kill myself.”

He blinked. “Because of what your teacher did to you?”

She gave a helpless laugh. “Why do people always think that? No, that hardly even bothered me. Because of what  _I_ did. Because it proved that I was never really going to fit in here, that I was always going to be something frightening and unnecessary, and that everything I once valued in myself was now a problem I needed to hide.”

Sesshomaru nodded but said nothing. She could tell he knew there was more. And for once, she wanted to tell him. Wanted to tell  _someone_ who would understand, and not think she was bonkers.

“It was also the last time I tried to go through the well,” she admitted. “I thought... Miko blood is very powerful, you know?”

“Yes,” he agreed.

“I thought maybe it would be enough to make it open again. And if it wasn’t...” she shrugged. “That outcome was better than the alternative.” She rubbed a wrist with her gloved hand. She still didn’t scar.

“What happened?” he asked softly.

“Sota found me down there,” she winced. “That’s the only part I feel bad about. I don’t remember much of it, though. I woke up in the hospital and stayed there two weeks until they were sure I wouldn’t try it again. Fortunately, my family was accustomed to making up illnesses for me to have in order to miss school, so a ‘relapse’ was completely believable. Officially, I quit archery ‘for my health,’ and no one said anything to the contrary. We lost the regionals. That part upsets me a bit too.”

He made a sound that might have been a humorless chuckle. “You value victory more than your life. Perhaps unwise, but valiant nonetheless.”

She smiled in spite of herself. “Pretty stupid,” she agreed.

Sesshomaru stood and went to the quiver, taking his time selecting an arrow. “Show me,” he said.

Standing up, Kagome gave a sigh. “I can’t, Sesshomaru. That was years ago, and an accident. I haven’t tried in ages. Tried opening the well that way, too.”

He rose an eyebrow. “How do you know if you haven’t tried?”

She made a disgusted sound and took the arrow from him. Lining up the shot, she took a deep breath and tried to remember Kaede’s instructions. She focused on the power within her and tried to feel it gathering in her fingertips where they grasped the arrow. She resisted the urge to look to see if they glowed pink or not. Instead, she pushed, and let go of the string.

Nothing. Her arrow hit the target, not a bad shot but nothing extraordinary.

“You’re trying too hard,” Sesshomaru said.

She glared at him. “Seriously? You tell me to try, and then you tell me I’m trying too hard. What do you want?”

He stared down the dojo at the targets. “It can be difficult to unleash a weapon in safety that was used in self-defense. Perhaps you need a better target.”

Confused, she looked in the same direction. “These are perfectly—” She blinked, and he was standing in front of one. “Sesshomaru, no.”

The room began to shift, filling with his jyaki. It was familiar enough that it didn’t make her want to choke, like an acquired taste, but it certainly set her on edge. “You may need to feel threatened to make this work,” he said calmly. He cracked the knuckles of one hand, and it began to glow a faint green.

“Sesshomaru, I could kill you with one of these!” she shouted, shaking the arrow at him.

“Possibly,” he agreed, his eyes bleeding red. “But you’d have to hit me, first.”

That was it. The last damn straw. Kagome stomped her foot into place, raised her bow, and released, all without thinking. The arrow blazed pink, screaming across the room right towards his face, which broke into a feral grin.

Right before he disappeared, and the target behind him exploded. For half a moment, Kagome worried that her eyes had played tricks, that she  _had_ hit him. Then he reappeared not six inches in front of her, still seething jyaki. His eyes were gold again, but the dangerous smile was still there.

“Very good,” he growled, his voice gravelly.

 _Holy shit_ , Kagome thought. She should be afraid, very afraid, of the extremely dangerous creature standing in front of her. Instead, she was suddenly, inexplicably turned on. “I did it,” she breathed, staring down at the bow in her hands.

“Yes, you did.” He lifted her chin back up with one knuckle, careful to keep his razor-sharp claws away from her delicate skin. She could smell the poison on his fingers. His eyes held her transfixed, and she didn’t know what to say.

“You’re beautiful,” she mumbled, immediately blushing at how stupid the words sounded.

“So are you, when you stop trying to hide,” he murmured, and bent down to kiss her.

Kagome leaned into the kiss, standing on her tiptoes and wrapping her arms around his neck. One of his hands pressed against the small of her back, the tips of his claws prickling against her bare skin, sending shivers up her spine. She hitched a leg up on his hip, and he grabbed it, pulling her higher so he could grind into her.

There was a moment of vertigo, and suddenly Kagome was on her back, on the floor. There was no impact, no jerk of motion. Just one moment she was standing, and the next she was laying down, Sesshomaru hovering over her.

“This was foolish of me,” he growled, but buried his face in her neck anyway, licking a long stripe up the length of it.

She smiled against his hair. “What are the reasons tonight?”

He sat back, obviously trying to get a hold on his jyaki. “I  _will_ hurt you if I try it like this,” he said, flexing his fingers and willing the claws back to fingertips.

“Fair enough, but it kinda turns me on,” she admitted.

He growled and took a moment to regain his control. “That’s because you’re far too enamored with death.”

“Point taken,” she agreed. “Anything else?”

“While I pay Hakune a great deal of money to overlook my occasional destruction of his property, I don’t particularly care to make him clean up that sort of mess.”

That made her laugh, a real and unexpected one, even for her.

Sesshomaru’s face relaxed, and he finally got a lid on his jyaki. “I like that sound.”

She sat up and traced one of his stripes. They had smoothed out again, and she hadn’t realized until then that they’d gone jagged.

“You’re surprisingly chill about learning that I tried to kill myself,” she said. “And that stunt you just pulled makes me think maybe you have a death wish too. Is this another one of those things you can relate to a little too much?”

He put his hand over hers. “Not precisely. I’ve had moments where death seemed like it might be a kinder release than going on, but...” he closed his eyes. “I made someone a promise I have to keep.”

“Rin?” she guessed quietly.

Sighing, he moved away for a moment, rearranging his limbs into a more comfortable position. Then he reached out and picked her up off the ground, depositing her in his lap. It wasn’t just a display of his strength this time, it was a well-practiced move. He knew just where to put her, the angle her legs would be comfortable at, in a way that was intimate without being quite sexual.

“Yes,” he admitted. “She lived to be very old, for a human, but eventually it was clear that her time had come. I... said some foolish things. Lamented that I hadn’t found some way to extend her life to something closer to mine.”

“But you did extend her life,” Kagome argued.

“That’s what she said,” he agreed. “She would have died young, if not by the wolves, then hunger, or the winter, or a bad beating. With me, she had lived long and well. And...” he swallowed. “She said as long as I was alive, and remembered her, then part of her would live on, too. I promised her I would never, ever forget. So, I can’t end my life, or I end the last of hers, too.”

Kagome leaned her head against his shoulder and traced the line where his Kosode ended on the other side of his chest. “Were you... married?”

“No,” he said quietly. “Nor were we proper lovers. I wouldn’t risk her to the vagaries of childbirth. I brought her soul back twice, and would not have a third chance. And I wouldn’t wish the life of a hanyo on my child.”

She wasn’t sure she agreed with the latter, but then Sesshomaru had known InuYasha much longer than she had. Maybe he suffered more than she realized. “But you loved her,” she whispered.

“As I have loved no other before or since,” he agreed, his voice reverent.

She let out a long, shaky breath. “Why is it so much harder to live when people aren’t trying to kill you?” she asked.

He considered the question for a long time. “It’s not peace that’s difficult. It’s solitude. Battle can distract you from it, for a time, but the victories are hollow when no one’s life was at risk but your own.”

Kagome leaned back to look up into his face. “Your dad would be proud of you, you know?”

“Hn,” he said dubiously. But she could tell by his relaxed expression that he was pleased.

She stayed in his lap a while longer, but eventually the temptation of his exposed shoulder grew too great, and she leaned forward to kiss it. “Is battle any good at distracting one from... other things?” she asked.

His stomach contracted in a silent laugh. “It’s a much better distraction for that,” he agreed. “The thrill of the kill can be quite satiating.”

“Well,” she moved to get up and he helped her along. “I don’t particularly feel like dying  _today_ , but if killing me will make you feel better...”

He scoffed and stood next to her. “It would hardly be a satisfying fight,” he said scornfully. “You’d be dead too quickly.”

She put her hands on her hips and looked up at him. “I’ve fought bigger than you,” she pointed out.

“But not smarter. I’d give you even odds if you caught me by surprise, from a close range, and you got off a good shot. But it would be luck, not skill. It would take a hundred years for you to get close.”

She laughed, the old colloquialism seeming particularly apt. “I suspect it would take longer than that,” she admitted. “But it could be fun all the same. Don’t cats like playing with their catches before they kill them?”

“I. Am not. A  _cat_ ,” he said indignantly.

That made her laugh. “You make me think of one, more than a dog sometimes. You’re very graceful, and beautiful, and you can move very silently. And you like to preen.”

Sesshomaru tugged the sleeve of his Kosode back onto his arm. “Well, I will try not to take the comparison as an insult, for the sake of our friendship.”

She grinned. It was the first he’d referred to them as friends. She looked over at the rack of weapons on the wall and went to grab a naginata. “I’ve always wanted to learn spear fighting,” she admitted. “I saw a woman once at an exhibition. Took my breath away, what she could do with it. Do you know anything about it?”

He took the spear from her outstretched hand and made a few twirls with it. “I’ve learned the art, yes. I wouldn’t say I’m a master at it, though. I’ve known a few talented spearwomen, too. A spear or Dao swords seem particularly suited to the lower center of gravity, I think.”

“Well, I’m not going to be a master either,” she admitted. “But it’s something to do.”

He nodded. “Learning new skills is an even better distraction,” he agreed. 

* * *

The next morning, Kagome woke up sore, every muscle protesting. It was a good feeling. It reminded her of when she’d first trained, her legs aching from riding her bike all over the feudal countryside, her arms tired from firing her bow or clinging to InuYasha’s back. She felt alive.

She got up and set the tub to fill. A good soak would fix what ailed her. While she waited, she called up her doctor’s office and set an appointment. It was time she started thinking about her future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask and ye shall receive! Y'all have been flippin' fantastic with your requests for more, it's really made me feel motivated to keep working on it. Not sure how the story got marked as complete, as I have an additional 3 chapters (at least) planned out. Rest assured, we're not done yet!  
> Also, if you'd like to see a really kick-ass female spear fighter, I highly recommend the anime Moribito. Absolutely fantastic animation, and I tend to be picky about how martial arts are depicted.


	4. Chapter 4

Kagome blinked her eyes open and rolled over in bed, looking out the window at the birds flying by outside making noise. Today was her 25th birthday. She tried not to think about it, but she was never very good at  _not_ thinking about things. She sat up, her mind a blank filled with the silence of trying very, very hard to not think the next thought.

_Today it’s been 10 years._

It came anyway. How could it not? 10 years since she fell down the well, met a boy with dog ears, broke a jewel, and started on the greatest journey of her life. 10 years since her life had changed completely, broadening her horizons and pushing her far past she ever imagined she could do.

And then it was all gone.

And it would never come back.

Her friends were all dead, centuries ago, and—

Kagome paused in the spiral of despair. But her friends weren’t all dead, were they? Not that she would have called Sesshomaru a friend back in that other life, but towards the end he was certainly a trusted ally. Hadn’t he guarded her life when she was struck unconscious in the final battle?

Unfortunately, that memory led to others that followed it shortly. The wish she had made, which she knew in her core had come at the price of the well closing. And InuYasha...

Kagome reached up and touched her face. It was wet. She was crying. She hadn’t cried in years, not for anything. Not even on that other anniversary. Why was she crying? She didn’t want to.

Laying back down, she curled into her comforter and smothered the sobs that suddenly wracked her in her pillow.

 _This is Sesshomaru’s fault,_ some distant, petulant part of her thought. _He made me **feel** things again. _

Kagome pulled the covers closer to her and tried hard not to wish that he was there. 

* * *

In the early afternoon, her phone rang. She’d run out of tears for the moment, and had been spaced out staring at the wall, and answered it automatically.

“Mushi, Mushi,” she mumbled.

“Higurashi,” Sasuke said, sounding hesitant, “were you planning on coming in today?”

Kagome blinked. “Uh, no, I hadn’t planned on it. Did you have a big find?” She sniffed, trying to clear the croak out of her voice.

“No, hey are you feeling okay?” he asked.

She was about to say she was fine when inspiration struck. “No, I’m miserable,” she said truthfully, and gave another hearty sniff.

“Oh no! I’m sorry to hear that, you do sound pretty awful. Well, you rest up and take care,” he said remorsefully.

“Hey, wait, why did you call?” she asked, suspicious.

“Oh, Mr. Satsuna came in and asked after you. But don’t worry about it, we can manage without you for a couple of days. Might be a mountain of paperwork when you get back,” he teased.

“I won’t mind,” she said honestly. She could use the distraction. But it seemed odd that Sesshomaru had chosen to come in on a day that she didn’t.

“Feel better soon,” Sasuke said, and he hung up.

Kagome put her phone back down and put the comforter over her head to block out the sun. 

* * *

Half an hour later, there was a timid knock at her door. “Kagome, sweetie,” her mother’s voice called hesitantly, “there’s someone here to see you.”

Kagome frowned. Her mother generally gave her the space she needed on this day, as did the rest of her family. She should know that she didn’t want company. “Tell them I’m sick,” she called back.

Her mother cracked the door open. “He’s quite insistent,” she said.

Wait, _he_? Had Sasuke come to check on her? It didn’t seem likely.

Her mother seemed to be debating whether she should say something.

“What is it? Who is it?” Kagome asked.

She came into the room and closed the door behind quietly. “He... he says he’s InuYasha’s brother,” she breathed.

She sat bolt upright in her bed. “He didn’t!” she gasped.

“Then he _is_?” Mrs. Higurashi’s eyes widened.

“Why is he here?!” Kagome demanded, throwing her covers aside and turning to open her closet doors, trying to find something nice she could change into quickly.

She’d meant the question rhetorically, but her mother answered anyway. “He seemed very concerned about your wellbeing. Should I let him in?”

“I guess!” Kagome threw up her hands. She certainly wasn’t going to have her mother leave a demon lord standing on their stoop.

Two gentle raps sounded on her door, and Mrs. Higurashi jerked her hand away from the doorknob as if burned.

Kagome sighed. “Come in,” she said, slamming the closet doors and resolving to be seen in her pajamas by the Lord of the West.

Sesshomaru opened the door slowly. “I apologize, Mrs. Higurashi. I didn’t mean to startle you. I heard Kagome say it was alright for me to come in the house...” he said absently. His attention was fully on her, the weight of his regard heavy. He did not  _quite_ have full control of his jyaki, as evidenced by his clearly golden eyes.

 _What’s he got him all riled up?_ she wondered.

“Oh, that’s alright. I’ll just... leave you two be,” her mother said in a suspiciously high, light voice, and then sort of  _darted_ past Sesshomaru and out the door.

“Hi,” Kagome said, flopping back down on her bed. “I heard you were at the office, so you can’t say you were just in the neighborhood.” He was still wearing his suit and had obviously come straight there.

“It is your birthday,” Sesshomaru stated.

Kagome closed her eyes and suppressed the urge to groan. “How did you find out?”

“It’s on your employment documentation. The whole office knows.”

She lost the battle and let out a pitiful sound. “Oh no. Please tell me they didn’t do anything special?”

“I believe a cake was purchased,” he said archly.

“Oh noooo...” Kagome buried her face in her hands.

“It will keep for a couple days in the refrigerator,” he reasoned.

She dropped her hands and looked at him. “Then why are you here?”

He came to stand at the foot of her bed. “I was... concerned. You don’t get sick, do you?”

Kagome sighed. “Not really.” Despite her long list of medical excuses, she’d always been very healthy.

“I didn’t think so. But young Mr. Okada was very convinced. He said you sounded ‘miserable.’”

 _Poor Sasuke_ , she thought. She wouldn’t want to have to explain that to Sesshomaru, and she wasn’t scared stiff of him.

“Our last... meaningful conversation had me worried,” he said at last.

“Oh,” she said. They’d chatted since the night at the dojo, but nothing of significance. She knew what he meant. “No, I’m not suicidal,” she reassured him.

“You’re not happy, either,” he pointed out. “Something has clearly upset you.” His jyaki flared; he was not reassured.

Kagome felt awkward staring up at him but didn’t want to offer him her tiny desk chair. She tugged her comforter into something resembling order and patted the spot next to her. He sat, somehow graceful and natural in an environment where he should have felt awkward. She’d grown comfortable with his presence, she realized.

“My fifteenth birthday was when I first fell into the well,” she said. “Today marks 10 years since then.”

“I see,” he said, and visibly relaxed. How did he convey so much with so little? In those few words were a world of understanding and sympathy but no pity. They sat in silence for a while and Kagome found that it was no longer empty with him beside her. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he put an arm around her back.

“The grief never lessens,” he told her suddenly. “They say it gets better with time, but that’s not exactly right.”

She looked up at him, surprised. “It will always hurt this bad?”

“No,” he said softly, looking back down into her eyes. “The grief doesn’t lessen, but you become more. You experience new things, make new memories, and eventually the... _percentage_ of you that grieves has lessened, even though the weight of it hasn’t changed. You’ve just grown stronger so the burden seems less.”

She considered that. It was tempting to make the excuse that this may be the way of things for the nigh-immortal yokai, but she was human and didn’t have that kind of time. But it sounded very familiar, and she realized it wasn’t far off from something her mother had said about her father when she was little. She’d cried for days, then, but now he was little more than a vague memory of strong arms and a gentle voice.

“I feel like I haven’t made progress with this,” she said. It wasn’t the same at all.

Sesshomaru brushed her bangs out of her eyes. “You haven’t processed it,” he agreed.

“How can I? It hurts too much.” She felt the sting of tears threatening, and was torn between not wanting to show weakness in front of him and knowing that he was the only person who would really understand and could therefore properly comfort her.

He looked away, staring into the centuries of his past. “It helps to focus on the good things,” he said. “To celebrate them, instead of trying to forget them with everything else. Try to let go of the regret that those times are gone, and bask in the reflected light of their happiness.” He paused a moment, and then said,

“ _You may miss the sun,_

_But the full moon shines brightly_

_with its borrowed light_.”

Something like a smile tugged at her mouth. “That’s pretty, who’s it by?”

He paused. “There was a time when the ability to compose poetry on the spot was a prerequisite for courtly socialization,” he said dryly, “but I am out of practice.”

Oh. Oh  _wow_. “No, it was good,” she insisted. “And I think you see what you mean. Nostalgia can be painful, but it can be good, too.”

“Bittersweet,” he agreed. “Do you not celebrate your birthday, then?”

“I do,” she said, “just not on the day of. Usually, we have a hot pot on the weekend after, and a cake. Sometimes I go out with the girls in the evening. You should... you should come for dinner, then.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you think your family would be comfortable with that? They seemed... disturbed by my presence.”

“I uh...” she laughed. “I didn’t tell them I’d found you again,” she admitted. “I don’t... talk... about that time, anymore. So all they know about you is...”

“Stories from 500 years ago?” he guessed. “I take it you weren’t flattering about it.”

“Actually,” she frowned, “I tried to downplay things. I didn’t want them to worry, you know? But InuYasha didn’t leave out  _any_ of the gory details. I think he may have told Sota about the time you put your hand through his chest.”

“Ah.” Sesshomaru glanced down at the hand in question. “That sounds like him,” he agreed.

Now she did smile. “Yeah. He did like a good shocking story.”

“There,” he said. “Like that.”

She took a deep, shaky breath. “Okay.”

“If you wish to update your family on my reappearance, and they seem comfortable with the idea, I would be glad to join your celebration this weekend,” he said graciously.

She made a face. “I’m terribly honored, I’m sure.”

He tilted her head up, and for one moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he just studied her face.

“I want you to be happy, Kagome,” he murmured.

“Why?” she asked. “Why does it matter to you?”

“Because you deserve it, after what you went through,” he said. She almost protested, but he went on. “Because the others all went on to be happy, for the most part, and they’d want you to as well. And because I’ve come to care for you.”

Kagome wanted to ask more, wanted to know why, and how much, and what that meant for them. But instead, she just said, “I care a lot about you too, Sesshomaru. I’m really glad we ran into each other.”

His face softened in that endearing way of his. “When you’ve lived as long as I have, coincidence begins to seem less and less likely. There’s a pattern to things, but it’s too big to catch the meaning of it. But things rarely happen without a purpose to them.”

“I’ve never liked the idea of fate,” she admitted. “I’d rather imagine I had some choice in my own actions.”

“It’s not quite fate,” he clarified. “But things have a way of coming together just when they’re needed. Even if it means dragging a young girl 500 years into the past, apparently.”

She laughed. She’d never thought about it that way. That she, at fifteen, was exactly the person necessary to defeat the evil within the Shikon jewel, and that she would bring together InuYasha and Shippo and Sango and Miroku and Koga and yes, even Sesshomaru, to fight Naraku, who was in turn the necessary catalyst. That everything had to happen just  _so_ , and that she was one of the crucial pieces to make it happen, even though she was born long after the proper time. It was a humbling thought.

He kissed the top of her head, breaking her reverie. “I should get back to the office,” he said, standing up and buttoning his blazer. “I told them I would return shortly. If you’d like, I can explain to them you won’t be able to come in the rest of this week.”

“No, I’ll come by tomorrow,” she said. “I really didn’t know they had something planned. I feel bad now. Maybe I should come in after all...”

“Ah, but then they’ll know you weren’t sick,” he pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

She laughed. “I guess I’m out of practice too.” Getting up, she followed him to the door and they said their goodbyes there.

Her mother came out of the living room, and Sota poked his head out. “Is everything okay, dear?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Kagome took in a deep breath and smelled something frying in the kitchen. “Dinner smells great,” she said. She’d barely eaten the breakfast her mother had brought up, and skipped lunch entirely. Now her stomach let out an embarrassingly loud growl.

Her mother suppressed a smile. “It’s sea bream,” she said. “It’ll be ready in about five minutes.”

“Great. I’ll just go get dressed quick then,” she said before dashing up the stairs.

Mrs. Higurashi and her son regarded each other with something close to disbelief. 

* * *

“So should I call him Sesshomaru-sama or Mr. Satsuna?” her mother asked, tidying the table settings with nervous but excited energy.

“Just Sesshomaru is okay, but if you want to be formal stick to Mr. Satsuna,” she reasoned.

“Still can’t believe young Narita works for a _yokai_ ,” Grandpa said, shaking his head.

“Mr. Narita doesn’t know,” she reminded him, trying not to laugh at her stodgy old boss being referred to as  _young_. “And you absolutely can’t tell him.”

“As if he’d believe me!” he laughed. He had something of a reputation about making up stories after all, and had tried to sell his friend a number of ‘wondrous artifacts’ over the years.

“I still don’t get it,” Sota said, arms crossed. He was the only one of her family who had expressed any reluctance at Sesshomaru coming to visit. “InuYasha always said he was an arrogant asshole,” he pouted.

“Language,” Mrs. Higurashi chided gently.

Sota put up his hands. “His words, not mine.” He had idolized InuYasha, Kagome knew, and she suspected that his resentment might stem from misplaced loyalty to the long-gone hanyo. Then again, it had only been a few years for him, too. He was still in High School, just beginning to study for his college prep tests.

She sighed, trying to put it into words. “Sesshomaru believes that he is better than everyone else, and to be honest, he can probably back that up. He’s very intelligent, observant, and a terrifyingly good fighter. But he doesn’t brag or put on airs. He’s just very self-assured, in a quiet sort of way. At least these days. He definitely used to put on airs.” She giggled, remembering how he used to refer to himself in the third person as  _this Sesshomaru_.

Her mother and grandfather gave each other a long, disbelieving look, but before she could ask what for, the doorbell sounded. “That’ll be him!” she chirped, and ran to get the door.

She opened the door to find an unexpected sight. He wore a sweater and slacks—far more casual than she’d ever seen him, even when they had gone to the dojo. He at least had the same dark blue Haori on over the sweater, lending him something of a historic air. He was dressed like an old man, really, but he made it look stylish and dignified. He also had a very long, narrow box in one hand, wrapped with classy washi tape.

“You didn’t,” she said.

He looked smug. “Are gifts not the human custom for celebrating the anniversary of one’s birth?” he said archly.

She laughed, and let him in. Introductions were made all around, although Sota remained sullen and dubious. As they all proceeded into the living room, she jabbed an elbow into his side surreptitiously. “What is your  _problem_?” she whispered before sitting down between him and Sesshomaru.

“Doesn’t look like a dog demon to me,” he muttered, plenty loud for everyone else to hear.

Kagome wanted to die of mortification.

Sesshomaru turned gracefully, head tilted. “Have you seen many, that you can tell?” he asked in a pleasantly neutral voice that fooled exactly no one.

“I’ve seen a hanyo,” Sota reminded him, “and I know that demons are supposed to have pointy ears and markings and stuff.”

“You are correct,” Sesshomaru agreed. “For the purpose of functioning in human society, I have chosen to conceal them,” he turned to their mother, “and I did not wish to alarm you again, Mrs. Higurashi.”

“Oh no,” she said, smiling. “We were all quite used to your brother’s appearance,” she reassured him.

Kagome pinched the bridge of her nose, extremely grateful that Sesshomaru no longer seemed to resent the association between him and his half-brother.

He nodded, reached up, and undid the earring, setting it neatly on the table. Turning to Sota once more, he asked, “Is that more what you were expecting?”

Her brother held the yokai’s gaze for a full two seconds, and then looked down, mumbling something about ears.

“That is a hanyo trait,” he answered, remarkably unconcerned. “It’s the only feature that carries through from our true form, which is not human in appearance at all.”

Sota’s eyes lit up.

“We don’t have space for that on the shrine grounds,” Kagome said, cutting her brother off at the pass. “And I don’t think the acid saliva would do the flagstones any good.”

“I would argue that I’m capable of controlling that,” Sesshomaru said, “but this broth smells delicious. I suspect you have some secret, Mrs. Higurashi, as there’s something more than kombu in that.”

Mrs. Higurashi laughed. “Can’t fool your nose, I suppose! I put a bit of beef bone in, too, to give it a little extra flavor.”

“An excellent addition, I’m sure,” he said.

The meal proceeded surprisingly calmly. Sesshomaru was obviously going out of his way to be polite to her family, and that made Kagome feel oddly warm inside. It was one thing that he cared what she thought—in a weird, improbable way, she was something of an equal to him. But that he cared what her family thought, even for her sake, made her think back on what he’d told her on her birthday. He really did want her to be happy.

And he was doing a decent job of it, too. Eventually, Grandpa started grilling him about various historical events. Sesshomaru wasn’t present for most of them since they were human concerns, but he gave what insight he had from the times they happened in. But the old priest was growing increasingly frustrated with the vague answers.

“What do you mean you don’t  _remember_ when the Shogun took power?” he asked incredulously.

Sesshomaru made an elegant shrug and plucked another slice of beef from the platter before barely dipping it in the broth and eating it mostly raw, as he had done for most of the evening. “It wasn’t of concern to me at the time. I knew there was an emperor, but he didn’t have any real control of the country and hadn’t for centuries. My territory was significantly larger than his range of influence, and I was more concerned with managing my own responsibilities than worrying about his. It was a good century before I realized that a military leader had unified much of the country, and then it was only because troop movements were disturbing the hunting grounds of some of my vassals during a famine.”

The table went quiet. Kagome had told her family that Sesshomaru was something of a yokai nobleman, but hadn’t gone into detail because honestly, _she_ hadn’t known how important his position was.

“I didn’t realize you had such an... administrative role,” she said. “I thought Lord of the West was a title of conquest.”

“It was when we first met,” he agreed. “Afterward, I took it a little more seriously. I suppose in the human sense, I grew up and got to work. But... the world changed, and I changed with it. I found that what I learned served me well when the industrial revolution came around, though, and I found a new calling.”

“Oh? What industry?” Mrs. Higurashi asked politely.

“Steel,” Sesshomaru said. “Importing, mostly. And coal, for a time.”

“Swords and fire,” Kagome shook her head. “Sounds like you.”

“Well,” he said evenly, passing a few vegetables onto her plate, “It’s difficult to teach an old dog new tricks.”

She laughed, nearly spitting out her drink. It was so funny that she kept laughing, and Sota chuckled, too. When she finally caught her breath she saw her mother and grandfather exchange another significant look, although this time there was far less mystery in it. How long had it been since they’d heard her laugh like that? How long had it been since she _had_?”

When dinner was over and the cake had been demolished, Kagome’s mother cleared the table, and they each brought out their presents for her. Sota gave her a pair of cute headphones with a pattern of baby chicks, her mother a stylish sweater she could wear to the office. Grandpa had found something weird again, this time it was a charm that he swore would bring the antiquities shop luck. It looked like a rock someone had scratched with a stick. She exchanged an amused glance with Sesshomaru and set it with the others.

At last, he placed his box on the table. It was longer than the table was wide, and Kagome viewed it with some trepidation. Whatever it was, the box made it look  _expensive_.

“You really didn’t have to,” she insisted.

“Oh, open it up, Kagome,” Sota said. He’d lost some of his attitude throughout the meal, convinced that Sesshomaru was more a boring adult than a threat.

She split the washi tape carefully and then opened the box. The only sound was her indrawn breath, and she stared in disbelief.

Inside was a Saigu-Yumi, a ceremonial bow. They had several in the shrine, it was a common tool for scaring away spirits. But this was not a decorative bow, despite the bright red lacquer covering it. She could tell by the way it lay unstrung, the recurve reversed, that it was meant to shoot, not just to pluck the string in rituals.

It was what she had defended her life with, every day, five hundred years ago. She took it out of the box and turned it over in her hands. “How old is this?” she breathed.

“It’s not an antique,” he told her. “I commissioned it new.”

“It’s beautiful,” she said, “thank you.”

Everyone at the table was very quiet, watching Kagome to see how she’d react.

“You should stay in practice,” he told her. “You never know when you might need to knock some sense into me again.”

That made her laugh. “Good point,” she agreed.

Her family relaxed, and they went back to chatting. It grew late, and Sesshomaru eventually excused himself, thanking Kagome’s mother for the delicious meal and hospitality.

Kagome went with him to the door and grabbed her shoes and coat to follow him outside. He said nothing, but she wasn’t surprised when he didn’t head straight for his car, but instead wandered deeper into the shrine grounds.

“Your family is very accepting,” he told her.

She put her hands in her coat pockets and smiled. “They barely even blinked at InuYasha’s ears,” she told him. “My mother even tweaked them, like I did.”

He shook his head, one corner of his mouth turned up in amusement. “I’m glad he found acceptance somewhere, even briefly.”

She sighed. “Did he suffer much, after? I know his childhood was rough...”

“It was never easy with strangers,” he admitted. “But Sango and Miroku’s brood adopted him as a sort of mascot, and for three human generations he had a home where he was loved and accepted.”

“I’m glad,” she said, smiling. It hurt less than she expected it to. She glanced up at the well shrine, not realizing he’d been leading her there indirectly. She sat on the steps, and Sesshomaru settled beside her, one knee hiked up and the other leg stretched out.

“We were just kids, really,” she said. “I wonder, sometimes, if I really loved him, or if it was just a teenage infatuation. I don’t exactly have any other experience to compare it to.”

He gave her a wry look. “Infatuation will not bring a yokai back from the bloodlust of madness,” he told her. “I cannot speak to your motivations, but I’m certain that his were perfectly sincere.”

She scuffed her toe against the bottom step where it was splintering. “I also realized that I would have probably gotten old before he finished growing up.”

“Physically, perhaps,” he agreed. “It was another 50 years before he looked like a true adult. But he wasn’t a child after the battle with Naraku. I doubt you were either.”

She looked up at the sky. It was true, she had struggled to relate to others her age, sticking with the same friends from junior high even though they went to different schools and went on to find new friends, too.

“How did Shippo manage?” she asked. He’d barely been more than a toddler.

“I’m not certain,” he admitted. “He sought out his fellow Kitsune and spent most of his time with them. He had a harder time connecting with the demon-slayer clan, being a full demon. Once Sango and Miroku had passed, he no longer visited.”

“I hope he was happy with his people, and nothing terrible happened to him,” she frowned.

“Most of the kitsune went into hiding early and married into human families. He may have had some hand in that, but I can’t be sure,” Sesshomaru reasoned.

Kagome remembered how strongly prejudiced against humans and hanyo he was when they’d first found him, even though he was so young. She didn’t doubt that it would have taken some doing to change that about Kitsune society.

Her hands were getting cold. She took them out of her pockets and blew on them, her breath fogging in the air.

“Here,” he took her hands in his own, and they were large enough to completely hide them between his. He was very warm, considering the cold, and she realized he was exerting some of his jyaki to heat himself.

“That’s cheating,” she muttered.

“Advantages of being a superior species,” he argued.

She laughed a little but quickly sobered again. They sat in a comfortable silence for a long moment. “Sesshomaru, I... I’d like us to be more than friends,” she told him. “I don’t know if it can be... like what I had with InuYasha, or what you had with Rin. But I want something more with you, I know that.”

He tilted his head. “Why?”

She let out an incredulous breath. “Because you do make me happy,” she told him.

He looked away as if her answer troubled him.

“And I feel like I can be myself around you. But most of all because I... I like you, Sesshomaru. You’re dignified and arrogant and entirely too good looking, but you’ve developed a sense of humor at some point in the last five centuries. And you  _understand_ things. Things it would probably take a human lifetimes to get, unless they’d lived through hell.”

He looked back at her, still reluctant, but his resolve seemed to be slipping.

She scooted closer to him, finding her courage and realizing it was suddenly easy, around him. “I know you want me,” she whispered in his ear, and was rewarded with a low growl. “And I want you. Maybe we could just be friends with benefits if that’s all you’re comfortable with. But I’d like more, and I can’t see any good reason for us to keep denying ourselves.”

Sesshomaru let out a long, shaky breath. “I am afraid,” he whispered.

Her eyebrows flew upward. It was the last thing she had ever expected him to say. But she gave him the same patience and time that he had shown her.

“If I let myself fall in love with you, if I take you to mate...” he raised her hands and pressed them to his lips for a moment. “I will eventually lose you, too.”

“Oh,” she said softly, tears pricking her eyes.

“I kept my heart guarded after Rin died,” he said. “I had liaisons with female yokai, but it was mostly political or...” he glanced at her, “purely physical. I told myself I was honoring her memory. But you have been honest with me, and I must return the favor, even if I have been lying to myself. I’m not certain the joy of loving you is worth the pain that comes after.”

She took a deep breath. “I can’t answer that for you,” she admitted. “But if I have any hope of being happy again, I have to believe that it is. That what I feel now was worth it, to have known and loved, not just InuYasha, but all of my friends. I’ve gotten low, but I’ve never gotten so low that I wish it had never happened. Have you?”

“No,” he whispered. He let go of her hands and framed her face with his fingers instead, stroking her cheeks. “Not ever.” He kissed her then, and though he was obviously holding back, there was no less emotion and desperation in it for that. It was over far too soon, although he leaned his forehead against hers for a long moment afterward.

“I will consider it,” he said at last.

She smiled, once again amused by his arrogance. “Thank you,” she said instead. She knew what he meant.

Once they had said the last of their goodbyes, Kagome went back inside and kicked off her shoes. She could hear her family speaking in hushed tones from her grandfather’s room, which she suddenly remembered had a good view of the well house, although thankfully not the side she and Sesshomaru had been sitting on.

“I like him,” her grandfather said in a confident whisper.

“He’s good for Kagome,” her mother agreed. “He makes her smile. I haven’t seen her this upbeat since...” she trailed off.

“Do you think he really turns into a giant dog?” Sota asked.

“You better hope he doesn’t, or he’ll eat you right up!” Grandpa teased him.

Her brother scoffed. “Nah, he likes Kagome too much,” he argued. “I’m safe.”

Shaking her head, Kagome made sure to make plenty of noise on her way back up the stairs and pretended not to hear them sneak back out.

Tucked up in her bed, she ran over the events of the night in her head, replaying his words over and over. _If I let myself fall in love with you, if I take you to mate..._ she shivered, something deep within her excited and terrified and thrilled at the thought. But those weren’t the words that she clung to as she fell asleep.

 _I am afraid_.

And he admitted it to her. That, more than anything else, made her think that he’d already lost this battle, and it was only a matter of time before he realized it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I meant this to be two chapters, but they ended up not being quite long enough compared to the first three, and the scenes flowed into each other so nicely. I did struggle quite a bit with keeping Sesshomaru in-character when he came for dinner but honestly... it's so different from anything we see him do in the original story. Even his more domestic moments with Rin weren't particularly demanding in terms of social interaction. I imagine he's had plenty of practice in the interim, though, so this is my best guess at how he'd handle it.


	5. Chapter 5

Kagome set aside the hand-written document she’d just finished typing in and stretched. They’d been busy the last week, and it had taken an effort to stay on top of the paperwork. She’d opted to stay late this Friday, rather than let the work sit over the weekend.

Finding that her tea had gone cold, she went to the mini-kitchen to dump it in the sink and clean up. No sense brewing another pot, she was just about done. She glanced over at the light still shining under Sesshomaru’s door, wondering what was keeping him so late. As if summoned by her thoughts, the door opened. Sesshomaru stood, a pile of documents in hand and a pair of reading glasses perched on his nose, and peered out into the mostly darkened office.

“Mr. Narita?” he asked, not sounding too hopeful of a response.

“Everyone else has gone home for the weekend,” Kagome told him.

Sesshomaru sighed and took off the glasses. “So I see. I lost track of time.”

She put away the last of the tea set. “What’s got you so distracted?” she asked, coming over at the papers to see if she could help.

He let out a breathless laugh. “Distracted is a good word for it. I’ve been focusing on work to avoid thinking about other things.”

“Oh,” she said softly. The heated gaze he pinned her with made it clear that  _she_ was what he meant by ‘other things.’

The silence dragged on between them, the air charged with something that was not quite like jyaki, but had that same sense of presence to it. “We need to talk,” he said at last. His voice, always pleasantly deep, was low enough that it was almost a growl.

Kagome’s heart accelerated, and she felt a flush creeping up her face. She couldn’t hold his penetrating gaze, so she looked away, past him, and saw his desk. Suddenly an image appeared in her mind, unbidden and vivid, of the two of them making good use of the mahogany expanse.

“Can we um,” she cleared her throat, so her voice would be less squeaky, “can we not have this conversation _here_?”

His slow inhale was not  _quite_ a sniff, but she knew better. He glanced over his shoulder to see what had obviously caused enough of a reaction to alter her scent—and why did the fact that he  _knew_ turn her on even more?—and spotted the offending piece of furniture. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards, and he gave her a knowing look. “Yes, of course. Your place or mine?”

“Yours,” she said immediately. “Just... let me get my coat and stuff.”

He nodded and went back into his office to stow the paperwork. Kagome resisted the urge to watch, and instead hurried to text her mom quickly that she was going out and not to wait up.

Her mother, of course, immediately guessed who with. Kagome sent a simple affirmative response, and then turned the sound off and shoved it deep in her purse. She was just putting her coat on when Sesshomaru came out of his office and turned off the lights, leaving the office mostly darkened.

 _What is it about yokai,_ she wondered, _that makes them so much more intimidating in the dark?_ She decided it was because they were at an advantage, and opted not to tackle the more complicated question of why the thrill of him crossing the room toward her was less atavistic prey response and more salivating anticipation.

The car ride was quite possibly the longest she’d ever experienced. They chatted, now practiced at small talk, discussing particularly interesting finds and the goings-on at the temple. When they finally reached his ridiculously luxurious apartment, she was less impressed than relieved this time around.

“Coffee?” he asked, taking her coat. He put it in a hidden closet with his and then hung up his blazer as well as slipping off his tie.

“Sure.” She certainly wasn’t planning on sleeping soon.

Sesshomaru went to the bar and pulled out a sleek stainless steel electric kettle, a coffee grinder, and a french press. He made the coffee with the same efficiency and elegance that characterized all his movements, but he seemed particularly  _exact_ about it.

 _He’s stalling_ , she realized. _He’s still nervous_. A wave of sympathy managed to soothe her jittery anticipation, and she offered him a soft smile.

“We can just talk tonight,” she said. “We don’t have to make any decisions until you’re sure about it.”

He seemed to find that amusing, the way he pressed his lips together. “I learned long ago that waiting until you are sure of a decision is a luxury that most humans do not have, and they manage alright. Of course, they don’t have to live as long with the consequences,” he joked. “Sugar or cream?” he asked.

“Lots of sugar and just a splash of cream,” she said.

He did as she asked, and handed her the mug. She held it between her hands, relishing the warmth, and then watched as he put an inordinate amount of cream in his own mug.

Leading the way to the couch, he sat down gracefully, and she struggled to do the same without spilling. She managed but had to scoot a bit closer to him all the same.

“So, Sesshomaru, what’s been preoccupying you?” she teased.

“You, vexing girl,” he said in mock consternation, and sipped his coffee for a moment. “I’ve been thinking about what you said at the shrine,” he explained. “What was the phrase? Friends with benefits. I had to look it up.”

She giggled, but inwardly she felt a bit disappointed. “Is that what you want?” she asked.

“No, I think we’re a bit past that already,” he admitted. “But it made me think, all the same.” He gazed at her for a long moment, gathering his courage she realized. “Perhaps... it might be possible for us to be... involved, without it being something quite so formal and binding as taking you as my mate. The way some couples these days are lovers without being married,” he explained. “I wouldn’t want to...” he glanced away, looking for a tactful way to put it, “call your honor into question, by suggesting such a thing, but since you suggested a more casual arrangement...” he made a helpless gesture with his open hand, as if to fill in the rest of his meaning.

Kagome could guess at the blanks. She put her arm on top of the couch and leaned her head on her hand. “I certainly don’t object to the idea,” she said. “As my family shrine’s Miko, any relationship I had would have to be... private. I could get married, but then I’d have to become a priestess rather than a Miko. I’m not really ready for that yet.”

He nodded, but there was a slight crease between his brows. “This is... a little different, but I can see what you mean.”

She sipped her coffee—it was absolutely divine, and she didn’t like to think how expensive it probably was—and tried to figure out what he wasn’t saying. “Maybe if I knew exactly what taking a mate entails, I could understand what you mean better?” she suggested.

Sesshomaru raised his eyebrows and took a very long sip of coffee, before setting the mug aside. “The details of the process differ between... breeds of yokai, but generally speaking there are a few consistent details. The most obvious, of course, is that the pairing be consummated, and another yokai bear witness to the evidence of such.”

“Oh,” Kagome scrunched up her face, not sure she liked the sound of that. “Like... like European royalty?” she asked.

He blinked for a moment, and then seemed to hit on what she referred to. “Gods, no. When a female yokai is mated, it changes her scent, temporarily. She smells like her mate, and to a lesser extent, he smells like her too.”

“So, you just need another yokai to do the sniff check afterward?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. Additionally, most mated pairs choose to exchange some outwardly visible token of belonging,” he explained.

“Like a wedding ring?” she guessed.

He nodded. “It could be jewelry.”

Kagome frowned, hearing the ‘but’ in his tone. “Do I want to know what else?”

Giving an elegant shrug, he failed to meet her eyes when he said, “scarification is also popular, among those that mate for life.”

He was being too casual, she realized, and that was enough to tell her that this was the practice followed by inuyokai. But if they mated for life, then...

“There’s probably no polite way to ask this,” Kagome said. “But was your father... cheating on your mom, by having InuYasha?”

Sesshomaru’s jaw tightened. “Not technically. His affair with Izayoi was only scandalous because she was human. Generally speaking, any offspring from such a non-mated liaison would be raised by the mother alone, although the human term ‘bastard’ is a bit strong. The only similarity is that they’re not supposed to inherit.”

 _Ah_ , Kagome thought, the answer to a long-pondered mystery clicking into place. That’s why Sesshomaru had always been so bent out of shape about Tetsusaiga. His father’s best sword shouldn’t have gone to the bastard hanyo by yokai tradition, not because he was younger or even necessarily because he was half human, but because it was an insult to him and his mother.  

“It sounds a lot like the marriages human nobility have had throughout history,” she commented. “As long as a few legitimate heirs were created, no one much cared who they were involved with otherwise.”

He nodded. “The arrangement is almost always political in nature, although usually there is at least some mutual fondness. You’re going to spend eternity together, or the next best thing, after all.”

She laughed, but then sobered a bit. “Do you think your parents loved each other?”

A wry smile ghosted across his lips. “They enjoyed each other’s company,” he said. “My father was a charmer, and my mother loved flattery more than anything else. I thought that was love, and I think maybe they did too. But when he met Izayoi...” he shook his head. “At the time, I thought it was madness. He seemed to have lost all rational thought where she was concerned. He could have recovered from his wounds if he’d taken the time to rest up and heal. But he chose to die for her, for both of them, instead. It wasn’t until I nearly lost Rin that I understood. Oddly enough, my mother was directly responsible for me learning that particular lesson.”

Kagome swirled the coffee in her mug, trying to encourage the sugar in the bottom to dissolve a little more. She knew what he was talking about. She would have died to save InuYasha’s life and knew he would have done the same. Did she feel the same way about Sesshomaru? It was hard to say. She couldn’t imagine that kind of threat actually coming up in the current era. She certainly wouldn’t want him to throw away his immortality for her sake.

“I think I understand,” she said. “And I stand by what I said before. I don’t know if we’ll ever be like... like  _that,_ but I’m okay with that. I just know that I want this. I want to be... to be lovers with you,” she managed, a blush creeping onto her cheeks.

“Lovers,” he murmured. “Yes, that would be a good word for it.” He reached out and took her mug of coffee, setting it aside gently before lifting her into his lap where he could kiss her. He was tender about it, and perhaps a bit shy.

Kagome reached up and touched his cheek, tracing the invisible stripes there. Her fingers brushed against his earring, and she pulled back a bit and made to take it out. He turned his head to give her better access, and she set the small diamond stud next to their coffee mugs. When she looked back, his face had softened into something that was nearly a genuine smile.

“You’re very beautiful, you know that?” he murmured, tucking a hand behind her ear.

She gave him a wry look. “I’m not the kind for flattery,” she said.

“I know,” he admitted. “But it’s true. It’s the way you move. Everything so purposeful and direct. There’s no artifice in you.”

Letting out a laugh, she threaded her fingers through his silver-white hair, not for the first time wishing it was still long. “So you’re saying I’m not fancy?”

His hands shifted on her hips, drawing her closer. “Your beauty, a blade,/ shines simple in its purpose/ without need for more.”

Her jaw dropped and he dipped his head to take advantage, kissing her deeply, his tongue delving in to dance with hers before he caught her lower lip and bit it oh-so-gently.

Kagome was already short of breath. “I do like the poetry, though,” she murmured.

“Mm, I’ll keep that in mind,” he whispered, abandoning her mouth to trail a line of kisses along her neck.

She tilted her head to give him better access, and he growled appreciatively. Belatedly, she realized what such a gesture might mean to a predator: exposing one’s neck was the ultimate sign of submission. A thrill which was quickly becoming familiar shivered through her, and she had a sudden idea. Arching her back a little, she went boneless in his arms, completely relaxing.

His grip on her tightened reflexively, and he laid her back on the couch, pressing his body into hers with a moan.

“How do you do this to me?” he murmured against her skin. “How do you know just what will set me off?” His kisses began to trail lower until he was forced to undo the first button on her shirt to continue.

She blushed profusely, both at his actions and having to explain hers. “You’ll laugh,” she protested.

He glanced up, holding her gaze as he slowly undid another button, revealing just a hint of her bra. “Have I ever laughed at you?”

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes—since when had he laughed at anything?—and anyway it would have meant looking away. “When dogs want to show you they’re friends, they’ll roll on their backs like they want you to rub their belly,” she muttered.

Sesshomaru raised an eyebrow but did not laugh, as he had promised. “That’s a very innocent way of explaining what you just did,” he admitted, but abandoned his attentions to the buttons on her shirt to instead lift the hem up to expose her skin there. Leaning down, he kissed her stomach gently a few times, and then licked her skin, which tickled in a very not-innocent way.

“You like doing that,” she gasped.

“Does it bother you?” he asked, shifting her shirt still higher until his fingers grazed against her bra.

She shook her head vigorously. “Just curious.”

He smiled, the dangerous, heated smile he’d given her in the club all those weeks ago. “You taste good,” he murmured, and then moved back up to put his face in the crook of her neck and inhale deeply. “And you smell  _fantastic_.”

“W-what do I smell like?”

He pulled back enough to look her in the eyes. “You smell like you want me.” It was a statement, but there was a question in it.

 _Oh, okay, so this is happening_ , her brain took a moment to silently freak out, but she wasn’t afraid. “That’s probably because I do,” she managed to whisper.

A change came over Sesshomaru’s face, his playful teasing dissolving into a much more serious heat, and he visibly swallowed. He moved away and for one moment, she thought he was going to back out. Was he still afraid, she worried?

But instead, he stood up and offered her a hand. She took it, and he helped her up off the couch and led her further back into his apartment. They passed through a door, and Sesshomaru nudged a switch on the wall to bring up the lights to a warm glow, and then flipped another which made the wall of windows turn frosted.

The room was decorated with the same tasteful minimalism as the rest of the apartment, with little in it besides a large western-style bed and two bedside tables. There were reading lights above the head of the bed, but these were off, and a carefully pruned pot of bamboo stood in one corner, an antique screen in another. A further door led to a darkened bathroom.

Sesshomaru led her to stand next to the bed, and then pulled her close.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked.

“Mmm-hmm.” She had to stand on her tiptoes to kiss him like this, so she kept it short and then began to work on unbuttoning  _his_ shirt. He helped her by pulling it out of his waistband, and she thought she caught a flash of magenta.

Grinning, she worked faster, freeing the last button and pushing the shirt open to reveal what she had glimpsed: two sets of markings, trailing up from the waistline of his pants just inside his hips to curl around and end on either side of his body on his ribs.

“Well, that’s not what I had hoped to impress you with, but you seem quite pleased as it is,” he teased.

She glanced up, her face flushing as she caught his bemused expression. “Sorry, I just... I’ve been curious for the longest time.”

He tilted his head. “Really?”

Kagome nodded and traced one stripe with her finger. “The ones on your wrists made me wonder... where else...” she shrugged.

He blinked. “You like my markings?”

She smiled. “Yeah.” Working up the nerve, she leaned over far enough to kiss the top of one, and then a bit lower.

Sesshomaru’s sudden grip on her arm was firm enough to make her stop and glance up, worried she had done something wrong. Instead, she saw that his gaze had turned molten and he looked a bit out of breath.

She suppressed a smile, guessing that she’d found a sensitive spot a bit too early. She stood up, and he kissed her fiercely, his hands clenched on her shoulders pulling her shirt open further. She quickly undid the last of the buttons herself, and he practically yanked it off her arms before pressing her against him. She gasped at the feel of his skin hot on hers and trailed her hands up his back. He made quick work of the clasp of her bra, and then let her go, stepping back.

Kagome’s hand went up automatically to stop her bra from falling off, and Sesshomaru paused, his hands on her shoulders.

“I’m rushing you, I’m sorry,” he said.

“You’re not,” she insisted, although she did have to work up the nerve to let go and let the bra fall.

Sesshomaru’s gaze dropped to her breasts, and his lips parted slightly. She fought the urge to cover herself, under such intense scrutiny. She couldn’t help but glance down too, and try to guess what he thought.

He tilted her chin back up, and this time his eyes were securely locked on hers. “Are you sure? You seem... uncomfortable.”

She shook her head. “I’m just... a bit insecure, I guess.”

He drew a thumb along her jaw. “Why?”

Letting out an incredulous laugh, she gestured to the expanse of muscles visible between the sides of his open shirt. “You’re... gorgeous. You could have any woman you wanted.”

“And yet I chose you,” he said firmly. “Are you questioning my taste in women?” he lifted one eyebrow.

She gaped at him. “You really are the most arrogant, stuck-up...” she lost her train of thought as his hand trailed gently down her neck to rest against her chest, his palm just between her breasts.

“So we’re questioning your taste in men, then?”

She shut her mouth with an audible click. He was teasing her, to make her angry. So she wouldn’t be uncomfortable. And it was working. And that made her angrier. But it also made her smile.

“Listen, Sesshomaru,” she toyed with the edges of his shirt, moving them so she could trace the line of his markings again. “I know I’m new at this, but you don’t have to be so careful. I told you before that I’m not interested in a gentle lover, and I meant it.”

He slid his hand inexorably lower and to the right until his hand covered her breast entirely. Her breath hitched, but she kept her gaze on his face.

“I must be gentle with you, at least this time. There will be time for more violent desires later. This must be done right,” He insisted. Releasing her breast, he sat on the edge of the bed and drew her between his knees.

She sighed. “Must you always be such a gentleman?” she said with mock exasperation.

“When I’m not a gentleman, I am a monster,” he pointed out. “There is very little middle ground.” Leaning forward, he placed a kiss on her sternum, exactly in between her breasts, and then another, just to the left.

Kagome, severely distracted by the path of his kisses, wove her fingers into his hair and leaned over to whisper, “I like the monster, too.”

Sesshomaru’s hands tightened on her back, his nails digging in just a little. He nuzzled against her with a growl and then sighed, leaning back. “You really have no sense of self-preservation, do you?”

“Nope.” She smiled.

“I don’t frighten you at all?” he seemed disappointed.

“Oh, you frighten me,” she said, totally serious. “On a regular basis. When you turned out the lights at the office I had that feeling you get right before you’re attacked. But with you...” She moved her hands up his shoulders, pushing the shirt out of the way. He shrugged it off obligingly. “With you, that fear turns into something else.”

Once he’d freed himself from the shirt, his hands came to rest on her hips, his thumb tracing the hem of her skirt with an absent rhythm. “What?” he murmured.

“Desire,” she breathed.

His fingers twitched, and she could see his chest begin to rise and fall faster. Reaching down, she undid the buckle of his belt and began to pull it free. “I feel certain sometimes that you’re about to run me down and...” she tried to find the words, faltered. “And I’m not certain what you would do when you caught me. But I want to find out.”

“Kagome,” he breathed, pulling her in close once more, this time so she straddled his lap. He slid his hands up under her skirt, making her gasp. This time, he didn’t stop but allowed one hand to trail up, over her thigh, watching her face the whole time, until his thumb just brushed the crotch of her panties.

They were very wet.

He cursed softly and closed his eyes. “You’re telling the truth,” he said incredulously.

She drew a finger down his aquiline nose. “Trust your instincts,” she told him.

Sesshomaru licked his lips—which was, she decided, entirely too enticing—and his hands moved to find the zipper of her skirt, making quick work of it.

“Kagome, I want to taste you,” he murmured, kissing and licking her ribs just under one breast.

She was momentarily confused, considering he was currently doing just that, as far as she could tell. Then his thumb moved against her panties, and she understood. Her cheeks felt hot, and she was glad she was sitting on his lap because she was pretty sure her knees wouldn’t have held her up.

“O-okay,” she agreed, her heart beating double-time.

His hand came to rest on her ribs, confirming with a touch that he could hear the change. Then he helped her stand up, letting the skirt fall to the floor with the rest of her clothes. Reaching back, he threw back the covers with one hand and then tumbled her into the bed. He kissed a trail down her body until he reached her panties.

If possible, she blushed harder. Of course, when she’d gotten dressed this morning, she had no idea how the night would end. She’d chosen a pair that had a cute little pattern of bunnies and bows. Not exactly the picture of a mature woman she would have liked to project.

But Sesshomaru said nothing, and she might have imagined the quirk of his lips. He pulled them down over her hips and then eased them off her legs before tossing them away. He kissed her knees, which she’d drawn up in the process, and then carefully, gently, parted them with one hand.

“Promise me you’ll say something if anything I do makes you uncomfortable,” he murmured against her skin, now kissing her inner thigh. He settled himself between her legs but hesitated until she answered.

It took Kagome a moment to remember how to speak. “Okay,” she squeaked.

That  _did_ make him smile, she glimpsed, right before he lowered his head and began to worship her with lips and tongue.

Her hips bucked up at the intensity of the sensation, but he easily held her down, as if he had anticipated the reaction. Her hands scrabbled for purchase against his expensive bed sheets, finding none. Her back arched, and she threw her head back into the pillow. Then he did something that sent a twinge of red-hot desire straight to her very core, and she let out a surprised sound. One hand went to cover her mouth, trying to smother the noises she couldn’t help but make.

He relented, but only enough to murmur against her skin, which was itself an exquisite sensation. “No sense in being quiet, Kagome. You could scream, and no one would hear you except me. And I should like to hear that very much.”

There it was, there was that thrill of danger that made her squirm. It lurked in her dreams and kept her up late at night, and now, now she could no longer resist it. When he bent back to his task, she cried out, keening at the feeling that she might soon explode, or die, or pass out. Just when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, something snapped within her, and every muscle in her body seized up for a moment, followed by a rush of heat and pleasure, unlike anything she’d ever experienced.

When she came back to her senses, she glanced down to see Sesshomaru licking his lips once again, looking quite literally like the cat in the cream despite his objection to any feline resemblance. It made her insides flutter deliciously, and she held out her arms to him.

He obliged, crawling up her body like the predator he was. He kissed her, and she could taste the saltiness of herself on his lips.

“Did you like that?” he asked in a whisper.

She nodded enthusiastically, not trusting herself to words. Instead, she reached down between them and began to fumble with the button of his pants.

Sesshomaru chuckled, a low, gravelly sound, and moved to lie next to her before making quick work of his pants and briefs himself. Her eyes followed the line of his markings down to where they ended just above the silver-white curls from which sprung...

“Oh,” Kagome said softly. She’d seen naked men, of course, and studied anatomy in high school, but she’d never seen an  _erect_ penis. Without such a reference, she wasn’t certain, but decided it probably wasn’t outside human dimensions, just... generous.

A wry smile tugged at Sesshomaru’s lips. “Now you understand why I must be gentle with you, to begin with.”

Her eyebrows went up, and she nodded. “That does seem practical,” she agreed, her voice a little higher than she meant it to be.

He turned to kiss her, running a hand up her back. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” he promised. For once, the arrogance in his tone was comforting—she believed he knew what he was doing.

“I’m not worried,” she murmured back, squirming closer and relishing the feel of his skin against hers.

“You still want this?” he asked, in a tone that was almost a warning.

She smiled. “Yes. You’re going to have to try harder than that to scare me off,” she teased.

He scoffed. “It would probably backfire anyway,” he muttered, and moved to open a drawer in one of the bedside tables. He came back with something that surprised her—a condom.

“Oh! You um, you don’t have to use that, if you don’t want to,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, I appreciate the gesture,” she blushed. “But I uh... I’m on birth control, so you don’t have to worry about getting me pregnant.”

Sesshomaru’s expression was one she hadn’t seen for a while, and it took her a moment to place it: surprise. “Since when?”

“Just after my birthday dinner,” she admitted.

His eyelids lowered. “And you say I’m the arrogant one,” he teased.

She huffed. “I had lots of reasons! I can’t do my job at the temple when I’m on my period, so it’s also very convenient!”

He kissed her to stop her protests. “I appreciate the gesture,” he told her, mirroring her words. “But this is... this is something I need. Otherwise, it will change the way you smell, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself around you.”

“Oh...” Kagome remembered what he had said about mating changing the way a female smelled, and realized  _how_ that must happen. “Okay,” she said, “that makes sense.”

“You don’t mind?” he said.

She shook her head, and glanced over at the box. It had already been open. “Have you used one before?”

He pressed his lips together a moment. “I have been practicing.”

“Ha!” she laughed. “It seems we both came prepared, then,” she teased.

Sesshomaru kissed her again, then, and while it started as something playful to shut her up, it quickly deepened into something more intense. When he finally released her, they were both out of breath, and the room around them seemed a little warmer.

“This is not a whim, Kagome,” he told her.

“No,” she agreed. He’d obviously overcome his prejudice against humans for Rin’s sake, but still. He’d clearly had plenty of reservations. But while she knew what some of them were, and could guess at others, she realized she didn’t know why he’d chosen to set them aside. “Why do you want me, Sesshomaru?” she asked in a whisper.

He let out a long breath. “Because you are brave, and stubborn, and strong. Because you understand me, which is a rare thing. Because you’re beautiful—yes, don’t try to argue with me girl, when I’m trying to tell you that I think I may be falling in love with you.” The last came out in a rush.

Kagome snapped her mouth shut. She had indeed been about to protest his description of her, but his confession took her completely by surprise.

He cursed and ran a hand through his hair, falling back against the pillows. “That is not how I meant to tell you,” he lamented. “You make me do things— _feel_ things—that I don’t know how to manage.”

Slowly recovering from her surprise, Kagome moved to lean over him and brushed his bangs out of his eyes. “It’s okay, I understand. I’m not really sure how to explain how I feel about you, either,” she admitted. “I just know that being with you makes me feel alive again.”

He opened his eyes at that, and she saw in his expression that he knew exactly what she meant, and felt the same way.

“And,” she said slowly, moving so that she could kiss his chest, “I know that everything about you makes me want more.” Moving lower, she found the edge of his markings and followed them down with a trail of kisses, before licking the edge of the end cautiously.

Sesshomaru’s jyaki flared noticeably, but even more surprising was the way he twitched against her. He flexed his fingers against the sheets and let out a low growl. “If I didn’t literally know better, I would think you had been a yokai in a past life,” he said, making it sound like an accusation.

“Why is that?” she asked with feigned innocence, trailing one fingernail down a magenta line.

“That’s what they’re there for,” he gasped, beginning to lose some of his eloquence. “Your modern biologists would call them ‘mating displays’ probably,” he joked.

That made her smile. “Well, they’re very effective,” she said, and, a little drunk on the way her touches made him squirm, she leaned down and planted one gentle kiss on the very tip. She was rewarded with a bead of moisture that sprang forth and, curious, she licked it up. It was salty and a little bitter.

“Kagome,” Sesshomaru said. His voice was low and gravelly, a warning that he was on the edge of control. “If you want me to make love to you, you need to stop that right now.”

She glanced up, confused. He was obviously enjoying it. “I just wanted to taste you,” she said.

He let out a long, shaky breath. “Later, I promise.” He swallowed visibly. “I just, I can’t...” his control on his jyaki slipped again, and she understood. It was too much, too fast.

“Sorry,” she said, sitting back up.

He sat up too, kissing her fiercely. “No, don’t apologize, sweet, beautiful girl. I just... I want to do this _right_ for you.”

She smiled, feeling something warm and fluttering in her chest. “Okay.”

He gave her one more kiss, and then ripped open the condom and made quick work of it. It wasn’t something she would have expected to be sexy, but the quick, desperate efficiency of it hinted not only at the strength of his need for her, but also just  _how much_ he had been practicing. How long had  _he_ been planning for this?

Once it was on, he surprised her once again by fishing a bottle of lube out of the drawer and adding some of that as well. That accomplished, he laid back and helped her move to straddle him.

“Like this?” she asked, surprised at the position. She felt a little exposed.

“It will be easier for you,” he told her, and, gripping her hips, began to move her against him in such a way that she forgot about being embarrassed. When he judged that she was ready, he moved her up and positioned himself just so, and then nodded. “Take your time,” he said warningly.

Kagome began to lower herself oh-so-slowly. It was a strange feeling, being stretched and filled and pushed, but she liked it. She found it hard to pace herself, but Sesshomaru was endlessly patient. When it felt like she couldn’t possibly go farther, he encouraged her to lift up and start over. Each time she went a little further until finally, she was sitting flush against him. She expected him to guide her up again, but he held her in place. An unconscious sound of frustration escaped her throat.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

She leaned over, hands braced against his chest. “Yes, I just...” her hips twitched involuntarily. “I want to move,” she said.

He shifted his hips a little, grinding against her without withdrawing. “Is that better?”

“Oh,” she gasped. “Oh, yes.” She found his rhythm, and moved contrary to it, remembering that night at the club. This was what she had wanted then, and it was even better than she had imagined. As they moved to their own music, warmth began to spread through her body, fueled by the delicious sensation.

One of Sesshomaru’s hands left her hip and moved between them, stroking her most sensitive spot and stoking the fire even higher. She moaned, and slowly, something in her released, relaxed, and only then did he begin to move within her.

Her hands clenched on his shoulders, and she lifted her hips, trying to drive him faster. He kept to the same inexorable pace, slowly increasing until the sensation was almost too much for her to handle. It was intoxicating and overwhelming and so, so good. She didn’t try to stop the sounds that came from her, unfamiliar and involuntary as they were, she could tell from the look on his face and the hitch in his breath that he relished them. Eventually, his control slipped a little and his movements became sharper, less controlled. It wasn’t hard to compensate though, she simply didn’t meet his thrusts fully, rising up on her knees when she needed to. After a while, though, she didn’t even need that and found herself panting as she pushed herself to go harder, reaching for something she could just feel the edge of...

Sesshomaru moved, sitting up, and the change in angle drew a gasp from her lips. He braced himself with one arm and used the other hand to cup her backside, helping her move. She braced herself on his shoulders, her blunt fingernails digging into his skin as she strove for that elusive feeling.

“Yes, Kagome,” he whispered, leaning forward a moment to lick the length of her neck, before pulling back sharply.

She opened her eyes, not aware until that moment that she had closed them tightly. He was gazing down at her with hooded eyes that burned into her soul, his lips slightly parted in wonder. “Sesshomaru, I...” she started, not sure what she wanted to say. And then her body ignited, that same implosion of pleasure as before, only now, with him driving deep inside her, it was so much  _more_. She cried out, arching her back, and gave herself up to the sensation.

A deep growl rumbled in Sesshomaru’s chest, and his hand slid up to her back, pressing her against him tightly. “Hold on,” he told her through clenched teeth, and then he moved them both, flipping her onto her back. She barely had a moment to register the change when he began pounding into her. It was too much, too fast, but she didn’t want him to stop. She was too lost to it, so she wrapped her legs around his waist and urged him on. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his breath coming hot against her skin, and she could feel the prick of his claws against her back where his hand was still beneath her.

“Kagome,” he growled, and the tone of his voice was not  _quite_ human, and that same thrill of fear shuddered through her body with a greater force than it ever had before, making her whole body tense up around him.

He made a strangled sound and then jerked hard against her, once, twice, and then stilled for a long moment before nearly collapsing against her. “Kagome,” he gasped, lifting his head and kissing her desperately, pushing her hair out of her face with his free hand. “Are you alright?” he asked, genuine fear in his voice.

She grinned. “I’m good,” she said breathlessly. “Better than good,” she laughed.

He let out a long sigh of relief, leaning his forehead against hers. He pulled away from her, and she whimpered a little at the loss of him but understood the necessity. As soon as he’d disposed of the condom, he came back and wrapped her tightly in his arms, peppering her face and neck and kisses. “You’re sure you’re alright?” he murmured against her collarbone, which he kissed with more care than elsewhere, she noticed.

“Yes!” she insisted. “Did I do something wrong? Was I okay?”

He let out a breathless laugh. “No, you were  _perfect_. Too perfect. I lost myself a bit at the end there, and I thought I hurt you, the way you tensed up.”

A blush crept over her cheeks—funny that she could feel embarrassed even now. “Nooo,” she said slowly. “It’s just... your voice changed a little, and that... um. It gave me that feeling again,” she mumbled.

He stilled, looking at her with something akin to awe. “You... you _came_ because I frightened you?”

“Maybe?” she squeaked. “It wasn’t quite like the other two, I think maybe I didn’t have it in me for another? I don’t know, I’ve never really...” she trailed off, the whole of her face burning.

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “You are truly a wonder,” he teased. “Let me get you something to clean up.”

He got up and padded toward the bathroom, completely unashamed in his nudity. She spotted a last set of markings on his ankles and then got a very nice view of his incredibly well-sculpted backside.

 _I had sex with that man_ , she marveled at herself. _And he liked it_. More than a little smug, she stretched languorously. Sesshomaru returned with a warm washcloth, which he handed to her before collapsing on the other side of the bed once more. He clearly wasn’t unaffected by the experience either.

Kagome made quick work of cleaning up. The soft cloth felt good against her slightly irritated skin, but when she was done she was surprised to find it was still mostly clean.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, reading the concern on her face.

“I thought...” she turned it over, checking the other side. “I thought there was supposed to be blood.”

A smug smile crossed his face, and he took the washcloth from her, setting it on the bedside table. “Not if I did it correctly,” he said archly. “That whole myth has always seemed one of the more barbarous traditions of human culture, frankly.”

Kagome was impressed. Research or experience, she wondered? She decided it didn’t matter and turned to nestle against his side. He wrapped an arm around her, and with the other hand trailed a finger along the contours of her face. She felt so relaxed and happy, she soon felt her eyelids began to droop. When was the last time she felt this secure, this at peace?

“Kagome?” he murmured.

“Mmm?” she managed to reply.

“Were you planning on going back home tonight?” he asked. His tone was carefully even, not giving a hint to what his own preference was. But she could tell, just by the fact that he had asked at all.

“Not really.” She yawned and snuggled closer to him.

He pulled away from her, but only to pull up the covers and flip a switch by the head of the bed, dousing the lights. When he returned, he encouraged her to turn so her back was against his chest, and he curled himself around her tightly, protectively.

Kagome sighed with deep satisfaction. _I could definitely get used to this_ , she thought to herself as she drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, but let me tell you, folks, this chapter was a *bitch* to write. (Haha, see what I did there? Yeeah, it's not funny Maria). I don't know what has possessed me to write this story as accurate to the modern setting as possible, but whatever it is has a powerful hold on me. Normally I gloss over safe sex issues (I usually write in non-realistic settings where I can make the argument that advanced medicine/magic makes it unnecessary), but this time I couldn't imagine the conversation not happening, what with Sesshomaru's concerns about the risks of pregnancy.  
> Additionally, I'm not really used to the slew of consent checks that are so, so necessary for things to go well on a first time. For one thing, I tend towards the non-con end of the freak show, and even when that's not in play I'm not a fan of the whole virginity fetish so I tend to just assume that both characters have had previous experience so I don't have to deal with it. But in this case, it made absolutely no sense for Kagome *not* to be a virgin, so I figured if I was going to a first time, I was going to do it damn properly.  
> And on top of all that, I had the WORST case of characters not cooperating. They just kept TALKING about everything, until I literally at one point yelled at the screen "just shut up and fuck each other already!" But no. Then I spent three whole days stuck on deciding whether or not to have Kagome reciprocate oral sex. I almost scrapped the whole thing and started over because I thought it was dragging on too long. Good god, this thing fought me the whole way, because, like Sesshomaru, I wanted it done *right,* dammit.  
> But it is done! And now I have like a bajillionty new ideas and this story may end up being a lot longer than I expected. (Why does this always happen to me?) So I hope you guys enjoy!


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